Until There Was You
by The Accidental Scribe
Summary: This story takes place before Martin Ellingham leaves London. He is at the peak of his career at St Mary's Hospital and very much in control of his life - until someone enters his world and turns it upside down.
1. Chapter 1

It was 6.25 am and the surgical floor at St Mary's Hospital in London was a hive of activity. The nursing staff was getting ready to change shifts and a small group of junior registrars stood laughing and chatting in the brightly lit corridor outside the wards where they waited to begin morning rounds. They all suddenly straightened up and stared down the corridor as the main doors to the surgical floor opened and a tall, distinguished looking man entered.

The ward immediately took on a charged atmosphere, the chatter stopped and everyone's attention was riveted on the man as he approached. His bearing had an unmistakable aura of authority. He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue suit with a light blue shirt and red tie. A frown creased his forehead making his face look stern and by the furrows on his brow it was evident that the frown was more or less a permanent feature. An impatient energy seemed to fill the space in front of him as he approached.

The ward sister stepped forward as she prepared to accompany him on his rounds. "Good morning Mr Ellingham,"

Ellingham nodded at her and grunted his usual, "Yes," by way of a greeting as he swept by.

A new junior nurse standing some distance away stared at him, wide-eyed. Her colleague whispered, "That's Martin Ellingham – he's the top vascular surgeon at St Mary's…actually probably in the whole of Britain. He's got no patience, so pay attention when he's around…you don't want to get on the wrong side of him."

Ellingham strode towards the first of the wards where the group of junior doctors waited and his frown deepened. Hopefully this morning one of them would actually be able to answer a question when asked, he thought. He could never understand why it was so difficult for them to see the obvious when looking at a patient's chart or at the medical history that was right under their noses. The thought made him scowl as he picked up the first clipboard.

The rounds went more or less as he had predicted. The junior doctors were, for the most part, unprepared and unobservant and his temper grew as the rounds progressed. In a curt and succinct manner he pointed out the finer details of each case.

After asking one of the doctors to examine a patient and share his findings with the group, Ellingham asked whether he would advise any changes to the patient's regime. The doctor said he didn't think so. Ellingham stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. His intense gaze had the young doctor squirming. "You don't think so," he said slowly, his tone scathing. "In that case I am relieved you are not my doctor…either you know or you don't." He looked down at the name tag on the doctor's coat. "If you had been paying attention…err…Chisholm," he said, "You might have noticed the mottled appearance on the lower limbs. Does that look normal to you? I think not. That, combined with the latest pathology results, indicates the need for urgent intervention on your part. But you missed it and the outcome would not have been very good for the patient now would it?" Ellingham enunciated each word. He spoke quietly which made the dressing down seem even worse. Chisholm, stung by Ellingham's tone, countered that he thought his initial observation was valid given the circumstances. Ellingham's stony face and narrowed eyes should have warned Chisholm to stop talking but he carried on until he realised that everyone was staring at him and his voice petered out.

Ellingham couldn't stand fools at the best of times and right now his patience had all but run out as he glared at Chisholm. Not only did this moron completely miss an obvious diagnosis but he had the temerity to argue with him too. His grey eyes were like chips of ice and his tone clipped as he said, " _If_ you ever acquire enough diagnostic skills Chisholm, you will realise just how stupid your last remarks were." He thrust the patient's chart at him. "I suggest you read the patient's history again. You will eventually see that failing to pick up these changes in the patient's condition since his last observation would more than likely have killed him."

Chisholm was about to speak again and Ellingham cut in, " _Don't_ argue with me…read it. _Look_ at the pathology." He looked around at the rest of the group who all pointedly looked anywhere but at him. "Does _anyone_ have anything to offer?" he asked in an exasperated tone. None was forthcoming so he launched into a point by point explanation of what the cluster of symptoms indicated and what needed to be done about it. When he had finished he snatched the chart from Chisholm's hands and proceeded to write up his notes.

The junior doctors murmured among themselves. In thirty seconds he'd taught them more than they had learnt in a day from their lectures and they were grateful but at the same time they were all terrified of him. His eyes missed nothing. Anyone coming into contact with him would be left in no doubt that this man expected total focus and commitment.

At the next bed the patient tried to engage Ellingham in conversation. "Be quiet." he said curtly without raising his head as he read the patient's notes. The registrars fidgeted, embarrassed at his abrasive manner. Ellingham looked up. "It says here that you had a stent put in two years ago." His eyes flicked over the obese patient. "Judging by your weight I take it that you did not follow the dietary plan you were given when you were discharged?"

The patient looked uncomfortable, "It's so hard to cut out all the things on that list Doc…no, biscuits with your tea. No pint down at the pub..."

Ellingham's expression of disgust was unmistakable. "And I suppose the exercise regime followed the same fate?"

"Well I did try for a while but it's really hard to find the time Doc."

"You're an idiot Mr…errr," Ellingham looked at the chart, "…Carson. Your failure to follow advice has landed you back here needing further intervention to prevent you dying of a heart attack. Well done." The registrars gaped at Ellingham as he went on, "If you are not prepared to take your health seriously, intervention is futile and a waste of my time. You'll be back here again in less than two years if you're not dead by then."

The patient was shocked but wise enough not to say anything as those grey eyes bored through him. He looked suitably subdued as Ellingham wrote up his instructions before heading for the next ward followed by the now silent registrars.

Ellingham sighed inwardly as the rounds went on. He understood the need for them and the explanations he had to give the junior doctors but it frustrated him when they showed no initiative. He would willingly spend his time doing it if they did. This morning he felt that he'd wasted his time. Idiots the lot of them. And some of the patients were no better. His mood deteriorated and his patience, such as it was, evaporated completely.

It was 7.30 am when he finally headed towards his suite of rooms in the consultants' wing. The deep scowl on his face ensured that people got out of his way and those that chanced a greeting received just a grunt in reply. He was relieved to find his rooms empty and he remembered that it was his receptionist's day off. He went straight to the little galley kitchen and prepared himself an espresso, one of the few indulgences he allowed himself. At least he could enjoy it in peace and quiet. He took the little cup back to his desk while he went through the notes for the patient he would be operating on in a little over an hour. The patient was elderly and not in good shape but all going well he could see another ten years of quality life if he heeded his advice – unlike that idiot Carson.

Just before 8 am he went to the little _en suite_ bathroom-cum-dressing room and changed from his suit into scrubs. He brushed his teeth and dried his face as he looked in the mirror where his grey eyes stared back at him. The frown was still pronounced. His day had not started well but being in theatre would redeem it somewhat. At least he would be surrounded by an experienced team who knew what they were doing. He turned and switched off the light.

As he strode through the corridors people automatically seemed to get out of his way. He entered the theatre complex and went straight to the scrub room, hoping that everything would run smoothly this morning. The previous morning he'd had to wait for the scrub nurse to appear. God knows where she'd been. But as he entered the room it was once again deserted and he scowled as he began to scrub up. She'd better be here by the time he finished.

 ** _I don't have a medical background so I've had to wing it a bit. Apologies if I've made any glaring errors._**

 ** _The character of Martin Ellingham belongs to Buffalo Pictures. It is with great respect that I spin this story with him at its centre – no infringement intended._**


	2. Chapter 2

If Fate had wished to be kind, she would have made Kate's first meeting with Martin Ellingham a little less of a disaster. Not only was he the most imminent surgeon at St Mary's, her new home as senior theatre sister, but he was probably also the top vascular surgeon in Britain and she was due to work with him for the first time in less than half an hour. Ellingham's reputation as a surgeon and as head of the research unit was well known and it had been one of the reasons she had jumped at the chance to work at St Mary's - that and the opportunity to be part of the specialist research team at the research unit for which St Mary's was renowned.

In her imagination she would meet the famous man in a space where they could introduce themselves and exchange a few pleasantries. But Fate had other plans. Ellingham had just turned from the wash basins in the scrub room and had his hands up in front of him when Kate came round the corner full tilt and slammed straight into him. Instinctively he put his hands up to avoid rendering them unsterile and her hands ended up on his chest as she tried to steady herself. She quickly pulled away but found herself staring at a bare patch of his neck in the V of his scrub shirt. Her eyes travelled up to his face and a jolt went through her as she looked into the most piercing grey eyes she'd ever seen. Or were they pale blue? It didn't matter because they were clearly very annoyed with her.

"You should look where you're going," he snapped, his voice curt and irritated.

"I'm sorry," Kate said smiling up at him, trying to lighten the situation a little. He did not respond but stared down at her with eyes that looked like chips of ice. She hurriedly stepped back and turned towards the basins when she heard his impatient voice again.

"What are you doing?"

"Scrubbing up…"

"I can see that…you're supposed to be assisting me. Where are my gloves and gown?"

It suddenly dawned on Kate that he thought she was the scrub nurse.

"Umm…I think you are expecting Nurse Kramer –she's just gone to fetch another surgical gown for you."

"Who are you?" he asked abruptly.

"Kate Rushton – theatre sister."

A deep frown creased his forehead, "You're new," he said sounding decidedly unimpressed. He stared at her as if he was trying to read her mind.

Kate lifted her chin and stared back at him. "Yes…I'm new here…and you must be Mr Ellingham."

"Yes," he grunted, scowling at her from across the room. He was a tall, trim man, easily six feet if not more. She judged him to be in his late thirties or early forties - much younger than she'd expected. His hair was short and mostly grey and he had a beautiful voice but there was not a flicker of friendliness in him. A great start thought Kate. She sighed as she remembered what her friend Jen had told her just a few days ago.

"Ellingham's a difficult man Kate," she'd warned, when she and a group of colleagues from St Mary's had invited Kate to join them at a nearby pub one evening shortly after she'd started there. They'd filled her in on all the surgeons she might work with and they'd finally got to Martin Ellingham.

"Out of all the surgeons he is the one you want to be most careful of. He's a grumpy bugger - never smiles…never chats. Some of the specialist team have worked with him for two years and they still know nothing about him except that he is a brilliant surgeon. His personal life is a mystery – he's obsessively private – never socializes. But when it comes to his work, you won't find better. He expects absolute precision and speed from everyone and gets impatient and annoyed when things don't go the way he wants it. He's built the vascular research unit up from scratch and he is a tyrant for procedure. His eyes can freeze you at fifty paces when he's displeased and that tongue of his…my God it can tear a strip off you, isn't that so Dave?"

Dave had nodded vigorously, his mouth full of beer. He'd swallowed quickly, "Yeah – he has quite a way with words." And the rest of the group had laughed. They'd all been on the receiving end at one time or another but David Goodall had received more than most of Ellingham's tongue-lashings and was considered to be an expert on the man. "He once called me a moronic imbecile…said I'd probably learned my diagnostic skills from a second rate television programme…and I said, House isn't second rate, sir!" Everyone had laughed.

Charming, thought Kate. Ellingham sounds like a really fun person to be around.

Jen had chipped in. "That's quite mild for Ellingham. I once heard him tell a _patient_ that he was a moron." The table erupted in laughter. "Mind you, in that instance," said Jen, "I actually agreed with him."

She sipped her beer. "Just so you know Kate, _nothing_ escapes his attention so be warned." Kate had known Jen since high school and knew she was prone to exaggerating a bit for dramatic effect, so she'd taken all the stories with a pinch of salt. But now as she stood opposite Ellingham and held his penetrating gaze she couldn't help thinking that this time Jen had not exaggerated.

Kate's thoughts were interrupted when the scrub nurse appeared in the doorway and Ellingham barked at her, "Come come come…I haven't got all day. Why weren't these things ready beforehand?"

Kate sighed and turned her attention back to scrubbing up as Linda, one of the theatre nurses she'd met at the pub, came to stand next to her.

"We told you he was a miserable sod, didn't we?" she whispered. "I mean, what does it cost to smile every once in a while?" Kate ignored the comment. After finishing up she went into the theatre and hoped Ellingham had calmed down. This was not a good way to start.

The theatre had a charged atmosphere. Everyone was at their stations and highly focused on Ellingham as he stood checking various monitors and instruments. He turned and his piercing gaze fell on Kate. His frown deepened. Then he said quietly, "I'm ready to begin," and pulled his surgical mask up over his mouth and nose.

Kate had assisted with hundreds of procedures so she knew the drill. She anticipated everything he required, making sure there were no interruptions. She looked at him working next to her at the operating table with his head bent and his brows almost meeting across his nose as he concentrated on the delicate procedure. At one point he flexed his neck muscles and straightened his back and their eyes met briefly. Above his surgical mask his gaze was intense and she still couldn't decide if his eyes were light blue or grey but they were definitely piercing.

Ellingham was reputed to have the Midas touch when it came to vascular surgery and as she watched him work Kate could see why. His skill was like a flawless performance. He gave instructions quietly but clearly and everyone was focused, immediately responding when he asked for information or if he needed something. Kate watched his fingers working with the tiny arteries and marvelled that a man with such big hands could perform such delicate surgery. Golden hands, was how one of the senior registrars had referred to Mr Ellingham, a title she now saw was not misplaced.

When Ellingham was satisfied that everything was working as it should, he instructed the registrar assisting him to close up and with a curt "Yes" grunted by way of thanks to the surgical team, he strode towards the automatic doors and disappeared.

Kate wasn't easily impressed but she admitted that Martin Ellingham had done just that. She couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief though that her first surgery with him had gone without incident. Well, apart from almost knocking him flying in the scrub room, that is.


	3. Chapter 3

Martin closed the door to his rooms in the consultants' wing. The procedure had gone well and he was free for the rest of the day which suited him because he had to put the finishing touches to a paper he was preparing for a medical conference in Paris around Easter. He would only have ward rounds to do again towards evening. God help him.

He went through to the little _en suite_ bathroom and stripped. For a man pushing forty his body was still lean and firm, a condition he worked at conscientiously by rigorously following a healthy diet and taking moderate exercise.

Once he'd showered and towelled himself dry he wrapped the towel around his waist and went to dress in the little alcove adjacent to the bathroom. His mind was already going over the changes he would make to the paper he was writing. As he looked in the dressing room mirror he scowled when he remembered the conversation he'd had the day before with Arthur Braithwaite, the Executive Head of St Mary's Research Unit, with whom he'd brought up the subject of his attendance at the conference.

"I don't see why I have to attend on all three days, Arthur. I only present on the last day and I have patients to see – my list, as you know, is always full."

"But you have to be there Ellingham. It's vital. You're our celebrity surgeon and the driving force behind the research initiative. It's you everyone wants to see, old boy. Showing your face and doing some networking will do St Mary's the world of good."

Martin had looked appalled. Celebrity surgeon? What on earth did that mean? And this networking business was not his strong point. In fact if anyone was going to mess it up it would be him. He found all the small-talk and sucking up irritating and meaningless and he was hard-pressed to stop himself calling people idiots. It brought out the very worst in him.

Braithwaite's round, bespectacled face belied a shrewd and business-orientated mind. He understood the intricacies of networking and the politics that went with it. He and his wife Rachel made a formidable team when it came to fundraising for St Mary's and he knew Ellingham was key to its success so he chose to ignore his scowl. "Are you bringing anyone with you to the dinner this time?"

"What?"

"The dinner - on the last evening. That's the best time to network. We're hosting a lot of high profile guests this time – hopefully we will gain some new benefactors. They'll want to hear all about the vascular research unit from you, Ellingham - the man behind it all. That way they're more likely to open their wallets."

Oh God he'd forgotten about the dinner. That just made everything even worse.

Braithwaite looked pointedly at Ellingham. He'd known him since his days at medical school and had followed his career with great interest. One could not help but take notice of a man whose brilliant academic performance had eclipsed his own famous father's and, by all accounts, Christopher Ellingham, who was also a surgeon, had been anything but proud of him. Bad blood there, for sure. Ellingham junior had once again upstaged his father by going on to become the youngest senior registrar in living memory. The man had been a prodigy but along the way he had gained a reputation for his abrasive and scathing manner with colleagues and patients alike. The latter, for the most part, ended up idolising him for saving their lives; his abrupt and taciturn manner largely forgotten.

Ellingham seemed to attract attention wherever he went, not only for his brilliant work, but because he was such an enigma - to his colleagues, his patients and lately, to the press. He'd recently read an article about Ellingham that had appeared in a national tabloid. A vascular surgeon would ordinarily not feature in such publications unless he'd done something particularly scandalous, but one of his patients, a famous guitarist in a British rock band, known for his debauched past, had given an interview after his recent life-saving surgery and had told the story of the _"bloody amazing surgeon"_ who had brought him back _"from the brink of certain death…the man is a legend…no bullshit...tells it like it is…"_ The journalist had then managed to track down the names of other high profile patients, amongst others, a peer of the realm, a Saudi prince and an American actress, the latter of whom had waxed lyrical about Ellingham's bedside manner, or lack thereof. _"Refreshingly honest and very direct – cuts to the chase – you don't need small-talk when the chips are down, do you?"_ she'd said, _"The man is a genius and he has a certain appeal – if I was twenty years younger…"_

Braithwaite's eyebrows had gone up a notch or two when he'd read that. He'd never considered Ellingham to be a person of interest to the ladies but when he'd pointed the article out to his wife she'd said, "Oh yes, it's Ellingham's aloofness that makes him attractive." He'd been a bit taken aback at that and had looked at his wife with a suspicious frown on his face until she'd kissed his cheek and told him that he was the only man for her.

And now the aloof, enigmatic surgeon was standing in front of him, his face like a thundercloud. Braithwaite slapped him on the back. "Bring someone with Ellingham, it'll be fun and having a pretty lady on your arm wouldn't do the cause any harm either." He'd walked away chuckling.

Fun? Martin's expression was sour as he observed himself in the mirror. Three whole days and a dinner - not his idea of fun at all. He sighed loudly. He'd just have to suck it up. At least Paris wasn't such a bad place to be if one had to attend a conference. Anyway, all this was only in a few months' time. No good stressing about it now.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door to his consulting room open. He frowned. It was his receptionist's day off – no-one should be there. He looked through the partially open door of the dressing room to see the theatre sister who had assisted him earlier - the new girl - he couldn't recall her name. She was standing in his consulting room still dressed in her scrubs.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

She jumped and turned her startled gaze to where he stood in the open doorway. "Oh…I'm sorry…I didn't realise you were here." Her eyes widened as they slowly travelled from his face downwards.

Martin suddenly remembered that he was naked but for the towel around his waist.

"Well clearly I am…now get out." He was about to slam the dressing room door shut when she said, "I did knock." And to Martin's surprise her face broke into a mischievous grin. It lit up her whole face as she stood looking at him, a faint blush on her cheeks. He was mesmerised.

"Just a thought," she said, "you could try locking the door next time…yes?" She held up the patient file in her hand. "You left this behind and I need your report." She pointed towards his desk. "I'll just put it here, shall I?"

Martin glowered at her. The girl had a nerve coming in here like this. Her amused expression didn't help either. He noticed her laughing grey eyes framed by long, dark lashes and her chestnut coloured hair escaping from clips that attempted to keep her curls under control. Even though she wore unflattering scrubs he could tell she had a good figure. She was beautiful but damned annoying.

Martin clutched the towel tighter around his waist. He struggled to find a suitable retort and ended up growling, "Yes…just put it there," and before she could say anything he slammed the door. He stood behind it for a second. Damn it...it would probably be all over the hospital in two minutes flat that she had seen him naked…well not quite…but still. His scowl deepened as he walked to the wardrobe.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate gave a deep sigh as she left the room. Things couldn't get any worse when it came to her first encounters with Ellingham, could they? Catching him with just a towel around his waist was a bit embarrassing but she couldn't help noticing that he had quite a nice body for someone his age. He was lean and his belly was flat and muscular, the kind of physique many thirty-something Englishmen had long since lost because of their lack of exercise and a fondness for their daily pints of beer. Ellingham looked as if he hadn't an ounce of fat on him. He was not handsome in a movie star sort of way, but attractive nevertheless. It had more to do with what one would call a 'presence' than with looks. He was prickly though. My God if looks could kill she would be on her way down to the mortuary right now.

Having seen him half naked would make their next meeting a little awkward and a horrible thought struck her - maybe he wouldn't want to work with her again. She had, after all, managed to upset him twice in one day and these surgeons were a temperamental lot. But she wouldn't like it if she couldn't work with him. He was top in his field and she liked his professional manner and she loved the specialist procedures. It's why she had come to St Mary's. No, she wouldn't like it at all.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks for all the reviews and follows - it is very encouraging and much appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

A light rain was falling as Kate headed home to her flat in Notting Hill. She'd counted herself lucky that she'd found something reasonably close to the hospital and at a price she was willing to pay. What she'd liked about the flat when she first saw it was that it had lots of natural light; it was neat, had modern appliances and it was close to the tube and bus routes.

She unlocked the street door and heard it snick shut behind her. After checking her post box she went upstairs to her flat on the second floor. It wasn't a big space, the building having been a large Victorian townhouse at one time. Now each of the three floors had been turned into separate flats but it was comfortable and she didn't feel cramped at all.

Inside she hung up her jacket in the little hallway and walked into the sitting room, switching on lights as she went. The room looked a little bleak as her furniture was still on its way up from Truro where she'd lived for the past three years. Her time at Truro Hospital had been wonderful but the surgery they undertook there had been limited as far as specialist procedures were concerned.

Kate ran a bath and sighed with pleasure as she lay back in the fragrant bubbles. Her thoughts were all about the new hospital and the people she'd met and especially about Martin Ellingham. There was something about him that intrigued her. Apart from seeing him almost in the buff and noticing his nice physique, it was his demeanour that made her curious – it was defensive as if he wanted people to keep their distance. Her interaction with him had been limited and less than ideal so far, but it made her wonder who this man was – what made him tick. By all accounts he was rude, abrupt, had no bedside manner, could not abide incompetence, which wasn't a bad thing, she thought because neither could she, and he was reputed to have, as her friend Jen had put it, a block of ice where his heart should be. So lying in the bath thinking about him seemed a bit of an odd thing to be doing.

Kate wrapped herself in one of her big fluffy towels and padded through to her bedroom. She'd indulged herself and bought a brand new double bed to stretch out in and it dwarfed the room. The pastel greens and cream coloured linen and curtains helped to make the room look a little bigger though.

Dropping the towel, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Her body was firm but curvy in the right places. She was thirty three now and cognitive of the fact that any extra kilos would attach themselves with a vengeance. She'd never been a gym person but she did a short yoga routine every day, walked everywhere and used the stairs instead of lifts whenever she could. That and a reasonably good diet, except for her occasional craving for chocolate and the odd glass of wine, had maintained her good figure.

She dressed in warm pyjamas and brushed her long hair until it shone. Most of her female colleagues had long since given in to the rigours of theatre life and had had their hair styled much shorter as it saved them loads of time every day. Kate couldn't take that step. She loved her hair long; it was just part of who she was.

After a light supper of chicken salad and fresh fruit for afters, she read for a while and when her eyes began to droop, she cuddled down under the warm duvet. She could hear the rain pattering on her bedroom window as she lay waiting for sleep to carry her off. Her last thoughts were disconcertingly of piercing grey-blue eyes under frowning brows.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	5. Chapter 5

Friday's after work, Jen and her friends always ended up at the Golden Lion pub just down the way from St Mary's. It was a popular spot with staff and one was guaranteed to pick up the latest hospital gossip whether one wanted to or not.

Kate wasn't one for pubs at the best of times but Jen had pleaded with her to come and join her and some of her friends again. "Come on Kate, there will only be a few of us and it's only for an hour or so. They're a really nice bunch of people. Who knows… you might meet the man of your dreams there," she'd said waggling her eyebrows at Kate.

Not likely she'd thought. The man of her dreams wouldn't hang out in pubs. But she'd gone along to be sociable.

Jen's friends were all just like her: extrovert, fun-loving and partial to their alcohol. Kate felt a little out of place. She tried to get into the spirit of it but became uncomfortable when one of the guys, a junior doctor by the name of Alan Petersen, kept trying to chat her up. She was used to being chatted up but it didn't mean that she liked it all the time. When men were so obvious and, especially when they'd had too much to drink, she found it rather pathetic and she politely but firmly put him off.

At the end of their table a stocky, blonde nurse by the name of Meghan was regaling two other girls with a story that had them all huddled together. Kate heard Ellingham's name mentioned and leaned closer to hear what she was saying.

"Apparently, Lara Perkins took a bet with her mates that she could seduce Ellingham."

Melissa snorted, "Don't know why she would want to try in the first place. The man doesn't look as if he can be seduced – he's as cold as ice."

"Yes," the other girl said – Kate hadn't caught her name. "Can't imagine him getting turned on by anything – it would take a miracle to get him all steamed up and rearing to go." They all laughed.

Dave Goodall chipped into the conversation. "Well Lara could get just about anyone steamed up…she's got a pair of…" Jen poked him in the ribs with her elbow and he yelped, "What?"

Alan recalled the attractive brunette who worked as a physiotherapist on the surgical ward. "Yeah…she's hot… _really_ _hot_ …if she sets her cap at Ellingham he'd have to be dead not to have some kind of reaction. Lucky bastard."

Kate shuddered with revulsion.

"Well, you might be right Al," laughed Meghan. "All her mates said it couldn't be done and according to her best friend Kelly there was an _obscene_ amount of money riding on it.

"Their money is safe, don't worry," Dave snorted, "Ellingham's probably still a virgin… or gay…never seen him look twice at a woman."

"Yeah, he wouldn't know what to do with a woman even if she threw herself at him stark naked," Alan said, laughing so much he spilled beer down the front of his shirt.

Kate sipped her wine. It disgusted her that people could be so mean and so personal about others. How did anyone think up things like seducing someone for a bet for goodness sake?

Meghan was holding centre stage and she clearly loved it. "Kelly said Lara played Ellingham for about two months before he finally went out for a drink with her one evening. And soon after that they went out to dinner."

"I bet if she didn't have money riding on it she wouldn't have gone out with him the second time," quipped Dave, "she must have been bored witless. I mean… what did they talk about? Arteries?" Alan gave a shout of laughter.

Meghan ignored him and went on, "Kelly said that after their third 'date' Lara had clammed up…wouldn't talk about it. Well, we all know that Kelly's not one to give up that easily and she kept pressing Lara for details until she finally admitted that she and Ellingham had …you know…done the deed."

Everyone at the table was gobsmacked. There were cries of "Noooo wayyyy" and "I don't believe it," before Meghan shushed them. "But here's the thing," she said, lowering her voice so they all leaned in towards her, "Lara didn't want to have _anything_ to do with the bet anymore."

"What?" said Alan, "That's so dumb…she'd won hadn't she?" He looked at Kate with a smirk on his face and said, "Some people don't know a good thing when it's right in front of them."

Oh God, thought Kate, this man needs a slap. She put her drink down and was just about to go to the loo when she heard Meghan say, "Apparently Lara started waxing lyrical about Ellingham…how he'd been the perfect gentleman on their dates. That he'd been quiet but attentive, had insisted on collecting her and taking her home again…that sort of thing. And then she'd kissed him and Lara…"

"And Lara slapped him for kissing like a slobbering school boy." Dave sniggered.

Everyone laughed but Meghan said, "No…no that's just the thing...Lara said the man had kissed her _senseless_ …that she was completely blown away at how sensual he was." Everyone looked at Meghan as if she'd grown an extra head but waited for her to continue. "She invited him in for a "drink" when he'd taken her home and the rest as they say…"

"Aww…come on Meghan, Lara must have elaborated a little!" said Linda. "I can't believe the grumpy bugger actually made a move."

"Well not only did he make a move but Lara told Kelly that he was absolutely amazing in bed…and that he certainly knew a move or two…and she should know. She also asked Kelly not to tell the others that she had slept with Ellingham and that she didn't want the money even though she'd technically won the bet."

Dave looked at Meghan and said, "I don't believe it for a second. Ellingham a beast in the sack? The man is a recluse – married to his work… so where did he learn his so-called 'moves'?"

Alan smirked, "Probably from watching porn movies…" He and Dave cracked up laughing.

Kate had heard enough. These people were disgusting. She put her glass down and stood up, taking her coat from the back of her chair. As she put it on she heard Meghan say, "Kelly said that Lara saw Ellingham a few times after that but the minute he became aware that she was becoming serious about him he broke it off. Apparently she was absolutely devastated...there were tears and everything. She admitted that he had told her right from the start that their relationship was to have no strings attached but that she couldn't help herself and she'd fallen head over heels in love with him."

"In lurrve…" mocked Dave, "with that miserable sod? I don't think so."

"Yeah well, I heard she's left St Mary's - gone on contract to Manchester. It's _that_ bad."

Jen glanced up at Kate and saw the disgusted look on her face. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head as if she was indulging two naughty schoolboys instead of infantile grown men. She leaned over and said, "They can be a bit over the top…don't take it the wrong way, Kate. They're good fun really."

Kate gave a tight smile, "I have to go Jen." Alan immediately jumped up, "I'll see you home." Kate shuddered inside. Even if he were the last man in the universe she would have said no. He gave her the creeps. "Thank you, but I can manage on my own," she said firmly. She couldn't wait to leave.

In the taxi on the way home she thought about Lara Perkins. What kind of woman makes that kind of bet? How could someone plot to humiliate another person by stalking them and then giving detailed accounts of their relationship to their friends? Even if she realised afterward that she'd made a mistake and wanted to back out…the whole thing was just so wrong and in so many ways. What was just as bad was Lara's so-called best friend Kelly – Lara had confided in her and she'd gone and told every Jack and Jill who'd listen. Kate couldn't comprehend how a friend could do that.

Her thoughts turned to Martin Ellingham. He didn't exactly come across as the warm and fuzzy type so it was difficult to imagine him being as passionate as Lara had said he was. But the more Kate interacted with him, the more she realised that there was much more to the man than met the eye.

Her final thoughts on the scene at the pub were that these shallow people all deserved one another. And she hoped she never had the misfortune to meet Lara or her friend Kelly.


	6. Chapter 6

The week seemed to fly by as Kate threw herself into her work and into finding her feet around her little patch of London. She was still getting used to the hustle and bustle but loved the relatively peaceful beauty of all the parks and at every opportunity would walk instead of taking a taxi.

Her flat was coming along nicely too. Her furniture had arrived, or some of it at least because her tiny flat could only take so much. But it immediately transformed her space into a home again. Just arranging her books in the wall unit and putting up her paintings and photographs made all the difference. She admired the new look as she entered her flat and put her parcels down. It was just on three o' clock and time for some tea and, being Sunday, she'd maybe put her feet up for an hour or so.

The kettle was just coming to the boil when her mobile rang. She grabbed it and saw the hospital's call centre number on the screen. She was on standby for any specialist procedures that might come up and immediately answered. The theatre was required for an emergency - a motor vehicle accident victim.

Kate switched off the kettle, grabbed the holdall she always kept ready when she was on standby and raced for the door. She'd hail a taxi in the street.

Within fifteen minutes she was making her way to the surgical floor, mentally going through everything she needed to do once she'd changed from her street clothes. By the time she got to the assigned theatre other members of the team were starting to trickle in. Kate was doing a thorough check of all the instruments and equipment, making sure everything was correct for the procedure they were about to perform.

"Who's the surgeon on call?" she heard one of the nurses ask and when the anaesthetist answered, "Ellingham" her heart skipped a beat. She'd forgotten he was on the roster.

She gave herself a mental shake and concentrated on her check list. Soon she heard the outer automatic doors open and voices outside the theatre. Mr Ellingham's clipped questions could clearly be heard as he went through to examine the patient before he was wheeled in to the theatre. It wouldn't be long before he was scrubbed up and ready to begin.

When he eventually strode in, the atmosphere took on that heightened energy that seemed to appear whenever he did. He glanced around quickly, missing nothing, including her.

A vision of him standing bare chested with a towel around his waist brought a smile to Kate's lips which he couldn't see under her surgical mask but he must have noticed that her eyes were smiling. He raised an eyebrow and his eyes bored right through her. "Is everything ready?" he asked, his tone even more curt than usual.

"Yes Mr Ellingham" she said but there was a hint of a smile in her voice.

"Good." He pulled his mask up over his nose and mouth, his eyes still on hers. "I'm ready to begin."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The procedure had gone reasonably well Martin thought as he strode down the corridor to his rooms. Reasonably because the patient's right leg had been so badly injured that the lower limb had to be amputated. The procedure had taken several hours to complete but he was satisfied that the man would recover well. He had youth on his side and he appeared to be reasonably fit and healthy. His life would never be the same again but at least he was alive.

Martin's thoughts turned to Kate Rushton the new theatre sister. Her eyes had looked amused when he'd arrived in theatre earlier and he was sure she'd been smiling under her surgical mask. But to his surprise there had been no gossip doing the rounds about him being seen clad only in a towel. If she'd told anyone it would have spread through the hospital in seconds. Maybe she wasn't one for gossip. If that were true she would be the exception to the rule.

He grudgingly admitted that he was impressed with her work so far even though they'd got off to a rather shaky start. She was efficient and he hadn't once had to ask for anything while a procedure was underway. She'd anticipated his every need as if she understood things as they unfolded. That didn't happen often enough. For a surgeon it was an unexpected bonus not to have to wait for things while operating, even momentarily.

He entered his rooms and shut the door. He was tired and a cup of coffee would have gone down well but looking at the time he thought better of it. It would only keep him awake later.

In the _en suite_ bathroom he stripped off his scrubs and turned on the shower. The strong, hot stream eased the tension from his shoulders and back and he stood under it for several minutes before soaping himself down.

Once he'd dried himself he went into the little dressing area outside the bathroom and caught sight of himself in the full length mirror. He grunted as if what he saw was only just satisfactory. He should be getting more exercise but with his workload it was becoming harder to find the time. A wry smile tugged at his mouth. This was an excuse he often castigated his patients for – make the time or suffer the consequences. He'd better start heeding his own advice.

As he dressed his thoughts turned once again to Kate Rushton. She had a hint of an accent – definitely not London – it was more like Cornwall where his Aunt Joan lived. He'd also noticed her eyes – not quite grey, not quite green – unusual, expressive eyes.

Expressive eyes? Really Ellingham? He checked his tie in the mirror, squared his shoulders and after locking the door, headed home. Home was a townhouse in Kensington with a nice view of the park opposite. It wasn't too noisy by London standards and he quite liked it.

It was dark when he stepped onto the pavement in front of the hospital. He hailed a taxi and as it pulled up, he saw Kate getting into another further down the road. She wore slim fitting jeans and a short jacket with the collar turned up against the cold. Her hair was loose and she had a small backpack hanging from one shoulder. He wondered where she was going. Home? Where was that? Or to meet a boyfriend – a husband? He frowned and after barking his address at the driver, he sat back and watched the lights reflecting on the wet streets as they began the short drive to Kensington.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks to everyone for the feedback and all the encouraging comments - without them writing would be a lonely exercise.**


	7. Chapter 7

When Kate saw Ellingham again he was poring over a patient's file in the little office next to the operating theatres. She almost didn't recognise him when she walked in because it was the first time she'd seen him dressed in anything other than scrubs. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes roamed over his tall figure looking so elegant in a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit with a light blue shirt and blue striped tie. A cufflink glinted in the cuff of his shirt and his black shoes shone. She thought he looked so distinguished with his grey hair and stern features. He glanced up when she came in and their eyes met and she smiled at him but he just grunted and turned his attention back to the file.

Kate went to her desk and began going through her staff rosters and making sure everything was on track for the full list they had the next day. She was intensely aware of Ellingham standing across the office from her and she turned slightly so she could take another furtive look at him. In doing so she knocked her clipboard and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Damn it! Ellingham looked up frowning. Kate's cheeks were pink as she bent over to pick it up and this is how Alan Peterson saw her through the open doorway as he walked by. He didn't see Ellingham at the other desk and came to lean against the door jamb as he looked Kate up and down.

"Hey Kate," he said, "Anybody ever tell you you have a sexy arse?" Before she could tell him to get lost he said, "So when are you going to invite me home? It'll be worth your while."

"Not in a million years Petersen." Her tone was scathing as she turned to look at him.

Kate could almost feel Ellingham's eyes boring into her.

"Why not? We're both single and Jen says you're on your own too much. I can remedy that." He sounded like a lech.

"Cut it out Alan, I'm busy."

"How about later after…"

"I told you – it's not going to happen…ever. Now go away, I have work to do." She was clearly embarrassed, her voice low and tight. She glanced at Ellingham but he appeared to be concentrating on his file, his brow creased in a deep frown.

"Aww come now Kate…don't play hard to get…you'll enjoy it I assure you."

Kate sighed loudly. Alan was treading a fine line and she felt her embarrassment turning to anger but before she could say anything, Ellingham suddenly spun round and walked into Alan's line of vision. His face looked like thunder. "Are you deaf Peterson? Did you not hear what Miss Rushton said?" Alan straightened up; his eyes round as saucers and his mouth agape. Ellingham glared at him, "Now get out and go and find something constructive to do with your time. And don't let me hear you speaking in this vulgar manner again. Am I clear?" He enunciated each word precisely.

"I was only…"

" _Am_ I clear?" His eyes were glacial; his one eyebrow arched.

"Yes Mr Ellingham," he mumbled and left.

There was an awkward silence after he'd gone. Kate's cheeks were pink with embarrassment as she looked up at Ellingham. He stared back at her; his face inscrutable.

"Thanks," she said.

His expression didn't alter but he suddenly lifted his chin and his voice was tight as he said, "You can thank me by telling your boyfriend to reserve his flirtations for when you're off duty." His tone dripped with contempt.

Kate's jaw dropped. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"Do you also have a problem with your hearing?"

Kate felt her blood begin to boil. How dare he? Her voice was low and tight with anger, "Just to be clear _Mister_ Ellingham, there is nothing wrong with my hearing and Peterson is _not_ my boyfriend…never was, never will be. Not that it's any of your business anyway." Her eyes were spitting fire; her cheeks now flushed with anger. "Your comment was most uncalled for."

"For someone who's not your boyfriend he seems very free with his suggestive remarks." He raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't mean I gave him permission, does it now? Peterson has no off button. He thinks all women find him irresistible."

"And you don't." his lip curled slightly which just stoked Kate's temper even more. She lifted her chin and looked at him long and hard and her eyes narrowed. "Since you're so interested - no I don't find men like that attractive in the least."

He stared down at her with those penetrating eyes. "Obviously Peterson hasn't quite understood that, Miss Rushton. Perhaps you should send him a clearer message." His expression was haughty as he turned on his heel and left.

Ohhhhh… the man was insufferable! Kate's breast heaved as she struggled to bring her temper under control. What the hell was that all about? How could he even think that she could find a slimeball like Peterson appealing? The fact that Ellingham had witnessed the whole thing was embarrassing enough - he was such a private and dignified man, but that he could think that she hung out with men like Peterson made her cringe.

And then there was Peterson. He was such a prat and so annoying. Unfortunately he was by no means the exception. Kate had come across this type of behaviour more times than she cared to remember. It always riled her that some men really believed it was their God-given right to speak to women in this manner and worse, that they expected women to find it flattering. Usually she could handle them but because she worked in close proximity to Peterson, it made things worse. He was always around, ogling her, trying to touch her, passing suggestive comments…ugh he was so disgusting and so persistent. And she would have no proof if she were to attempt to lay a charge of harassment against him. It was always done when no-one else was around - until today. God knows she had given him no encouragement – from the first time she'd met him at the pub she had made her feelings quite clear. Back off! But no – Peterson's narcissistic ego could not comprehend that a woman might not be interested in him.

Ellingham had stood up for her, conveying his disgust at Peterson's ungentlemanly behaviour but it was clear he thought she was partly to blame. Ohhh that irked her. In fact Ellingham's comments annoyed her even more than Peterson's had. And that gave her pause for thought. Why did it bother her so much? Ellingham's opinion shouldn't matter a jot, should it? Whatever - nothing she could say now would change his perception.

When she compared the two men, they couldn't be further apart on the spectrum. Ellingham might not be the most congenial of men but he had a certain gravitas – she couldn't imagine him treating a woman in such an insulting manner. He would surely show more respect. But she was just speculating - after all she didn't really know him, did she?

One thing she did know though, was that when it came to Martin Ellingham she always seemed to be on the back foot. She couldn't quite read him. Behind that forbidding face she knew there was a depth to the man but he never let anyone through. Why did he put up so many barriers? What had happened in his life that he felt the need to keep people at arm's length? Well mostly at arm's length. He could be intimate - she thought of Lara Perkins - so he wasn't without his needs as a man but she guessed even that would be on his own terms – he would probably not let his defences down even then. Yes Martin Ellingham was an enigma – an infuriating, exasperating enigma and she found him occupying her thoughts way too much. That's not a good idea Kate Rushton, she thought. Not a good idea at all.


	8. Chapter 8

Martin fitted the last part of the clock's mechanism into place and sat back to admire his handiwork. He reckoned he'd need one more session and it would be finished and back to its original working condition. He stretched to ease the tension across his back and shoulders, stiff now from sitting bent over his desk for too long.

It was Saturday afternoon and for once he was not on call and was spending a rare day at home. He glanced out the window of his study and was pleased to see that the sun was still shining. It cast a mellow, golden light over his desk. He'd had a relaxing day so far. He'd managed to read his latest BMJ and he'd taken advantage of the unexpected sunny autumn day and had gone for a long walk that morning. And now he'd just spent time on the one hobby he'd seriously pursued since his days at medical school. He had a talent for repairing antique clocks; something he'd taught himself over the years. He found that working on them was almost like performing surgery in that he lost himself in the task at hand. He found it restful.

His interest in clocks had started as a boy when his curiosity about the workings of his grandfather's pocket watch had got the better of him. He'd dismantled it to find out how it worked and was in the process of putting it back together again when his father had found him and thrashed the daylights out of him with his belt. His grandfather Henry Ellingham had intervened, "For God's sake Christopher leave the boy alone - let him finish what he's started. Give him the benefit of the doubt."

Even though his backside had been throbbing from the beating and his eyes were often blurred with tears, Martin had put the fob watch back together in perfect working order and presented it to his grandfather who had smiled down at him. He'd taken it and attached it to the chain on his waistcoat then bent down and ruffled his hair and said, "Well done my boy. I knew you could do it." He'd been five years old.

Shortly after that his grandfather had presented him with his first frog to dissect and had sat with him and explained exactly how to do it and what he was observing as the dissection progressed. His grandfather, a physician, was retired by then, but he always had time for Martin and he was the only one in Martin's young life whom he loved and respected. He'd felt safe with him. Through him and later through his daughter Joan the little boy had come to the realisation that not all adults were like his parents – that some were capable of giving affection. Unfortunately neither his grandfather nor his Aunt were in his young life long enough to prevent his young soul from being permanently damaged. Boarding school had separated him from the only loving influence he was ever likely to have.

His grandfather had passed away when Martin was fifteen years old and he had inherited the bulk of his estate. His father had tried everything to get the will overturned but it was legally solid and the substantial trust had enabled the young Ellingham to put himself through medical school. It was as if his grandfather had known that Martin would have been too proud to accept anything from his own father. Martin had always been saddened that his grandfather had not been around when he'd graduated.

He opened the drawer of his desk and took out the pocket watch. He rubbed his fingers over the engraved silver case and felt its solid weight in his hands. Apart from the financial bequest, the things he cherished most were the pocket watch and his grandfather's ring which he'd also inherited. He now wore the ring permanently on his right hand. It was a reminder that it was because of Henry Ellingham that Martin had gone into medicine and not because of his own father, himself a surgeon. His father was nothing to him. He hadn't seen his parents in years. They were as remote from his life now as they had been when he was a child and were without a doubt the most selfish and self-serving people he knew. He didn't want to see them ever again if he could help it.

He went to the kitchen and switched on his espresso machine. As he prepared everything his thoughts turned to Kate. Unlike his parents, she had been on his mind a lot in the last while. She intrigued him and he couldn't quite put his finger on why that was. It wasn't only her long dark hair and big grey-green eyes or her smile that could light up a room - although they did play a part. Her smile had been one of the first things he'd noticed about her the day she'd collided with him in the scrub room. For a moment she'd been so close to him that he could smell the clean scent of her hair before she'd hurriedly stepped back. As usual he hadn't handled the moment particularly well – he'd bitten her head off in his usual abrupt manner but she'd taken it in her stride. Not a fading wallflower by any means.

And now he'd gone and done it again with his cutting remarks about Peterson. He'd heard himself saying the words as if someone else was speaking them and once he'd started he was unable to stop himself. Peterson had obviously seen Kate socially at some point and for some reason it irked him. What was she doing hanging around with that imbecile? It had made him want to poke the hornet's nest to find out what reaction he'd get out of Kate. And my God he'd got a reaction. She'd blasted him with both barrels. Her eyes had looked like they were spitting fire. He supposed his remarks had been a bit uncalled for so it wasn't really surprising that she'd reacted that way. He never thought that an angry woman could be beautiful, but she was. She fairly bristled with indignation and her accent had become a little more pronounced. He'd found it mesmerising. But the upshot was that she was giving him the cold shoulder. It was as if he'd become invisible. And he realised that he didn't like that at all.

He stabbed the button on the espresso machine and a stream of coffee dispensed into the little cup under the nozzle and its rich aroma filled the air.

He hadn't heard any gossip about Kate at the hospital which was unusual. The hospital grapevine was more efficient than any other form of communication he could think of. News seemed to spread within seconds - it was that quick. He'd had first-hand experience of its efficiency after his disastrous liaison with Lara Perkins. The grapevine had hummed for days after he'd broken it off with her. Bloody embarrassing. But then it was his own fault for getting involved with someone so close to home so to speak.

In his contact with staff in the operating theatres he couldn't help but overhear gossip on a daily basis, but there had not been a whisper about Kate – no talk of a boyfriend or a husband or any pub-crawling escapades that seemed to cause such ridiculous amusement amongst the staff. But that moron Peterson had said Kate was single – "on your own too much". Martin found it hard to believe. How could a woman like Kate be single? The young bucks must be all over her – she could have her pick of any one of them.

His scowl deepened as he sipped his coffee. The strong brew perked him up and he decided to go for another walk to clear his head.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

After their little altercation things were frosty between Kate and Ellingham. She was still piqued by his presumptuous, arrogant attitude. She studiously avoided eye contact and her interactions with him were strictly business-like. No more smiles in his direction.

One morning shortly after the incident they were scheduled for a procedure together and, as fate would have it, Alan Peterson happened to be the assisting registrar. It made for an interesting and very awkward dynamic in the operating theatre. Ellingham glared at Peterson. Peterson glared at Kate. And Kate glared at both of them. Fortunately they were all professional enough not to let their personal feelings get in the way of their work and everything went smoothly.

Kate tried not to look at either of them once the procedure was underway but she was intensely aware of Ellingham as he stood next to her at the operating table. Every time she handed him an instrument and his gloved hand touched hers she felt a jolt and she could sometimes feel his gaze on her. She frowned. Pull yourself together Rushton. Remember, he is still arrogant, high-handed and very infuriating.

Ellingham handed over to Peterson to close up and as he stepped away from the operating table he glanced at Kate standing next to him. She lifted her chin and pointedly ignored him; a little frown creasing her brow as she turned to supervise the final count at the end of the procedure.

A short while later, when she entered the scrub room, Ellingham was still there. He was drying his hands at the basins and looked up as she came in. If she didn't know him better she would think that he'd been lingering. He usually left directly after a procedure.

She felt his eyes on her as she pulled off her cap and went to the basin next to him and began washing her hands. She tried to ignore him but his gaze had an almost physical pull. She switched the tap off and looked up at him. Instead of his usual piercing glare his expression was almost thoughtful. He pulled some paper towels out of the dispenser next to him and handed them to her.

Her eyes never left his face as she dried her hands. It seemed as if he wanted to say something. She raised her eyebrows as if to say, "What?"

He frowned. "Umm…I wanted to…umm…say…" he began when one of the theatre nurses came in and his frown deepened into a scowl. He opened his mouth then thought better of it. "Umm…yes…" he grunted and left.

Kate stared after him. Well well…if she wasn't mistaken that was almost an apology from the arrogant Martin Ellingham. She smiled. If she was right – it would mean that miracles really do happen.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Once again many thanks for all the comments and feedback. Taking Martin E on a different journey has been a wonderful challenge so far and I realise that it pushes the boundaries a bit. Bear with me. For those who are wondering: I wanted to explore the man he was before his life, as portrayed in the series, came into existence. I wanted to place him in a setting where he is fully in charge and king of his own castle. In that environment he is very aware of what's going on around him. He still detaches himself from any emotional interaction but he is by no means immune to emotions - his own and others. His gruff demeanour really hides a little boy with his nose pressed to the sweet shop window. A little provocation is all he needs I think. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

The weeks seem to fly by. Before Kate knew it Christmas was only two weeks away and she hadn't finished shopping for gifts yet. As she put on her street clothes after her shift she mentally made a list of what she still had to get and planned her shopping trip for the coming weekend.

An icy wind cut through her thick jacket as she made her way onto the pavement in front of the hospital and she shivered. There were no taxis which was very unusual for this time of the evening, so she pulled her collar up around her ears and stood in the doorway to wait out of the wind.

She thought about her mother's gift – she had seen a lovely sweater in a little store in Notting Hill and she would also get her the latest Hilary Mantel novel. Her mother loved books; she both read them and wrote them. As an author of historical romance fiction her mother's novels had become wildly popular, which always surprised her as she still saw herself as a 'dabbler'. She wrote under the pen name Catherine Penhallow; Catherine after her daughter and Penhallow being her grandmother's maiden name.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw a lone taxi rounding the corner and she stepped forward intending to flag it down when just then a tall figure emerged from the shadows a little further up the pavement and got there first. Bugger she thought as it pulled up. Then she saw it was Ellingham. He strode to where the taxi had stopped and was just about to get in when he noticed her standing there.

"Were you waiting for a taxi too?" he asked.

"Yes but it's fine…I'm not in hurry."

"Umm…which way are you going?"

She told him and he said it was not out of his way. "Jump in," he said standing back and holding the door open. He was wearing a dark, tailored cashmere overcoat over his blue suit. It made him look even taller.

"Oh no…thank you…it's fine…there'll be another along soon enough."

"Get in…please," he said curtly, "It's no trouble and it's freezing out here. Come on," his tone brooked no argument. So she got in and he slid in next to her. Close but not touching. She gave her address to the driver and so did he - Kensington. Nice neighbourhood, thought Kate.

They sat, at first not speaking as the taxi slowly wound its way through the London traffic.

"A cold night to be out and about." Kate eventually said.

"Yes."

"Are you taking some time off over Christmas?"

"No."

Kate smiled inwardly. So…literally a man of few words.

There was a slight pause and then he glanced at her, "Are you?"

"Yes…heading down to Cornwall for a week to see my mother."

He nodded. So he was right about the accent, he thought. "Where in Cornwall?"

"Oh you probably wouldn't know it…it's a small fishing village called Portwenn."

Martin looked surprised. "Portwenn?"

"Yes…north west coast – near to Delabole…Wadebridge…down that way.

"Yes I know exactly where Portwenn is. My aunt lives there. I used to visit her during summer holidays when I was a child."

Kate was always surprised when anyone knew where Portwenn was. It was the west coast's best kept secret. "Oh. What a small world. Who's your aunt?"

"Joan Norton. She lives at Havenhurst Farm."

Kate's face broke into a smile. "Aunty Joan! Oh my God, I've known Aunty Joan all my life."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?" Martin was mesmerised by her smile. It seemed to light her up from within. Anyone who saw it could not help but be drawn to her. He looked away quickly.

"Yes," she said. "She and my mother have been friends since I was a baby. I used to sometimes sleep over at Havenhurst when my parents were travelling on business. You could say Aunty Joan is like a second mother to me."

"We have something in common then," Martin said quietly.

Kate wasn't sure if he meant Aunty Joan or Portwenn and she looked at him hoping he would elaborate but he kept looking ahead.

She was about to ask when last he'd been to Portwenn but just then the taxi slowed and the driver said, "Here we are love." He told her how much she owed and she fished in her handbag for her purse but Ellingham put his hand up and said, "Don't worry - I'll see to it."

"Oh I couldn't let you do that…"

"It's no bother." His eyes met hers and she was about to object again when he cut in firmly, "No…really. It's no bother."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. That's very kind of you." He leaned across and opened the door for her. His shoulder brushed against her and she caught his clean scent. His face was so close she could see how smooth his skin was and the little lines around his eyes and mouth. She quickly slid to the door and got out.

When she turned to look back he was looking at her with that thoughtful expression on his face again. The taxi pulled away and she stood and watched it until it turned the corner at the end of the road. There was a thoughtful expression on her face too.


	10. Chapter 10

Kate wound up her stint at St Mary's three days before Christmas. She'd managed to get all her shopping done and had spent the evening packing her suitcase ready for her trip down to Cornwall. The next day she locked up her flat and boarded the 14:03 train at Paddington. She was looking forward to seeing her mother and just being away from the hospital and the hustle and bustle of London. She knew it would be a bit of a crazy time leading up to Christmas itself but it was Portwenn and they did things differently there. What she most looked forward to though was the quiet companionship that always seemed to be a part of the Rushton household. No stress. No urgency. No demands. Just being.

Fortunately for Kate, there weren't many people heading south at this time of the year and her carriage was quiet. She stared out at the passing scenery - the built up outskirts of London soon gave way to greener and flatter countryside and she began to relax a little. Her thoughts, of their own accord, gravitated towards Martin Ellingham. She wondered what he was doing over Christmas. He'd said he wasn't taking time off but surely he would spend part of the day with family or friends. Then again he didn't strike her as someone who would enjoy lots of people or festivities of any kind. She wasn't averse to socialising herself but if she had to be honest her toleration for noisy parties had declined rapidly after her mid-twenties.

She'd worked twice more with Martin in the week following their taxi ride together. He'd deigned to nod in her direction as he'd entered and left the theatre each time - a rare honour indeed. He was his usual taciturn self but on occasion she would look up and find him staring at her with that intense gaze of his. Almost as if he was trying to figure something out.

Kate settled back with her book. She was reading a biography on Herbert von Karajan – another man that fascinated her because of his long and distinguished career in classical music. Four hours later, during which time she'd finished her book and had managed to doze for half an hour, the train pulled into Bodmin Parkway station. It was already dark by then and she alighted onto the platform to a soaking drizzle. But her mood brightened when she saw her mother's slim figure standing near the entrance. She hurried towards her pulling her suitcase behind and they hugged and rocked each other.

"Oh it's so good to see you darling." Evelyn Rushton stood back and had a good look at her daughter. "You're looking tired Catherine," she said. Nothing escaped her scrutiny.

"Maybe a little Mum – it's been a challenging few months." She linked her arm through her mother's. "But now I have a whole week to rest and recharge my batteries."

Her mother's battered old Mercedes was almost the only car in the car park.

"Is this old jalopy still up to it Mum?" Kate just shook her head and smiled when she saw it.

Evelyn chuckled, "I haven't the heart to get rid of the old girl," she said. Her mother could afford any car she wanted. She was a very wealthy woman. Apart from the accumulated wealth from her marriage to Edward, she made a small fortune from her novels. But the car remained and Kate supposed it was a sign of her mother's character. She was the same down to earth person she had always been and wealth and fame (yes she had a huge following) was not going to change any of it.

The boot lid creaked as Evelyn opened it and they loaded her luggage and set off, chattering all the way as if they hadn't spoken in months when in fact they spoke every third day or so over the phone.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Christmas time in Portwenn was typical of many small villages. There was lots of socialising and much goodwill to all, mostly in the form of a glass of sherry to keep the cold at bay. There was a well attended carol service in the village hall presided over by the local vicar, who, it appeared had made a few home visits on the way there and was quite merry by the time the service got underway. In the days following Kate's arrival there was a constant stream of visitors to the Rushton household on Roscarrock Hill, all wanting to know how Kate was getting on in London, or the Big Smoke as they called it. If Truro had seemed far away to them then London might as well have been on a different planet. Kate and her mother made just as many visits to the homes of others to wish them and have a drink for old time's sake. By the time Christmas Day lunch had come and gone Kate felt like she would explode if she ate another morsel.

The weather had set in with rain lashing at the windows and an icy wind moaning around the eaves. It was a sound she knew so well and as a child she'd always loved the feeling of being cosy inside while outside the weather raged around them. Right now the sea was in turmoil, crashing on the breakwater and tossing the little fishing boats about even though they were reasonably safe inside the harbour walls. Today even the gulls were earthbound in the strong winds.

They finished tidying up after lunch and settled down in the sitting room. Her mother sat opposite her in a big wingback chair in front of the crackling fire, her face soft in the mellow, flickering light. She was still an attractive woman, Kate thought. She had the same chestnut coloured hair as hers, with just a hint of grey now but it made her look refined and dignified rather than old. Kate thought she looked content, or at least more content than on previous Christmases since her father's death. Content and a little lost in thought as she stared into the glow of the fireplace.

"What's going through that head of yours Mum? Another plot for one of your books?"

"Not really…well maybe a little," she laughed, "you know me too well. I am always on the look-out for a good plot." She looked pointedly at Kate. "And speaking of which, what's happening in your love life? Anyone on the radar?"

"No," Kate answered, a little too quickly and her mother's own radar went on high alert. Mmm…she thought, my daughter has an interest somewhere. One that she is grappling with a little it would seem.

She tried to recall if Kate had mentioned anyone in particular over the three days that she'd been at home. There were her so-called friends of course, not that she seemed to want to spend much time with any of them. Kate was not a party girl and this crowd's favourite pastime was meeting at the local pub. She wondered at that and she suspected that her daughter spent most of her leisure time on her own - which was a great pity. Kate certainly seemed to brighten up when she was telling her about the museums and bookshops or her daily walks in the parks close to her flat. But she never mentioned a companion on these outings.

She thought some more. Kate had mentioned one of the surgeons who, it seemed, was a quite a difficult man and with whom she'd bumped heads a couple of times. What was his name? Ellingham. Yes - Martin Ellingham. Kate had told her the story of their first meeting when she'd collided with him in the scrub room and also when she'd walked into his consulting room and found him with just a towel around his waist. They'd laughed when Kate said she'd been so embarrassed that she was sure he could see her blushing from across the room. Now that was an interesting and potentially promising encounter, thought Evelyn. She would be interested to hear any other snippets about this man. Then she remembered that Kate also mentioned that Martin was Joan Norton's nephew.

Evelyn cast her mind back many years and recalled the boy who used to come and stay with Joan and Phil over the summer holidays. Always seemed a lonely lad if she remembered correctly - never made friends with the other boys in the village, preferring to stay on the farm all the time. Joan still mentioned him every now and then - how proud she was of her famous nephew the surgeon. Seems he made headlines from time to time because some of his patients happened to be celebrities or royalty. Joan was so proud of him – she and Phil had never had children so she supposed Martin was like a son to her. He hadn't been to Portwenn in years though.

She looked at Kate sitting with her feet curled up underneath her, mesmerised by the dancing fire. With the soft light playing on her face Evelyn couldn't help thinking that her daughter was a very beautiful woman and she appraised her with a writer's eye.

Her features were striking with her high cheek bones, a curved jawline and a well-shaped, rose-pink mouth with a full bottom lip that just begged to be kissed. And then there were her eyes - not quite grey, not quite green, framed by long, dark lashes and strong but shapely eyebrows. A man could drown in those eyes - they were so expressive and full of life. Her long, soft, dark hair had natural burnished highlights and she had a slim but softly curved figure and she always dressed in an understated way which simply enhanced those attributes. Yes, her Kate must have set many hearts racing she thought, but she was never one to encourage male attention. Evelyn had often observed her polite but firm manner with would-be suitors. Her daughter had always been picky.

Most men were attracted to her beauty but Evelyn knew that when it came down to it, they were often intimidated by her intellect. She was intelligent, well-read, well-travelled and had a wide range of interests. The man who captured Kate's heart would have to be a match for her on so many levels. She just hoped that Kate wasn't shutting herself away from meeting people.

Evelyn sighed deeply and Kate looked at her. "What was that for Mum?"

"Oh you know… just wondering when you were going to meet someone special and provide me with grandchildren," she smiled sweetly as Kate sat bolt upright.

"Oh Mum, what's the rush? I will get there in my own good time."

"And so you will, dear," Evelyn waited a beat and then threw in, "I was just hoping you might have met someone already."

Kate smiled wryly. "I have been very busy Mum. All work and no play at the moment – and definitely a very dull girl."

All work and no play. Evelyn suddenly recalled something Kate had said about the surgeon and she smiled inwardly. Kate had told her about his skill in the theatre. Top in his field…exceptional she'd called him. She'd said she was amazed that a man with such big hands could perform such delicate surgery and that he was very imposing and always so impeccably dressed. So she'd noticed the man and not just the surgeon. And it wasn't only what she said about him that Evelyn picked up on, it was the way Kate said it and the slight flush on her cheeks that now made her almost sure that there was more to this man than Kate was willing to admit. She decided to test her theory.

"So this surgeon…what's his name…Martin. Is there any possibility that he might be someone you could see socially?" she asked innocently.

Kate looked horrified. "Absolutely not!" she said adamantly. When her mother looked at her to elaborate, Kate shook her head. "No…he wouldn't…umm…I mean…he's not…" She took a deep breath and said firmly, "That would never happen. He's not the socializing type, Mum. Well not that I've noticed anyway."

"So he's a bit slow when it comes to women then?"

"I wouldn't say that exactly," said Kate, remembering the gossip about him and Lara Perkins. She felt a fleeting stab of envy that Lara had managed to get so close to him. The realisation came as a shock to her and she frowned a little and looked into the fire again.

Evelyn saw the emotions flit across her daughter's face. They might have gone unnoticed had she not been looking out for them.

Kate looked thoughtful. "He seems to be an obsessively private man. Very cut off from others." She played with a strand of her hair. "A bit vulnerable really." Then she realised what she'd said and jumped up. "Tea Mum?"

Evelyn smiled. There was definitely more to Martin Ellingham than Kate herself had realised and she wondered where it would lead when she did.


	11. Chapter 11

Kate drove out to Havenhurst Farm the next morning, bumping along the dirt road leading up to it in her mother's aging car. It creaked and groaned and she wondered if it would even get her there. She didn't like the idea that her mother drove a car that could break down at any moment and resolved to try and talk her into getting something more reliable. It was time.

As she pulled into the yard beside the big sprawling farmhouse a light rain was falling creating a misty curtain that obscured the view. On a fine day you could see a vast expanse of ocean and the beautiful Cornish coastline from up there.

She got out and was immediately greeted by Aunty Joan's deliriously happy little dog Buddy. His tail wagged nineteen to the dozen as he ran in circles around her. "Oh Buddy you crazy boy. Come here." He came to her and she stroked his ears. Such a happy dog.

They walked towards the kitchen door which suddenly opened and Aunty Joan stood there still as plump as ever, her face beaming and her arms outstretched. "Kate…Oh my dear girl…look at you." Kate was enfolded in Joan's ample arms and rocked backwards and forwards.

"Aunty Joan I've missed you."

"And I you… come in out of the rain. You'll get soaked."

They went into the warm kitchen and Kate smelled the delicious aroma of something baking. At Havenhurst there was always something baking.

"Tea?" Aunt Joan filled the kettle.

"I'd love a cup, thank you." Kate went to the cupboard and got the cups out. The kitchen was so familiar to her. Nothing ever changed in it. It was the same warm and comfortable oasis it had always been.

They sat at the old, worn table over tea and freshly baked muffins which Aunty Joan insisted she eat, even though she'd had breakfast only a couple of hours before.

"You have that look of London about you Kate. Tired and pale. You need some good country cooking and fresh air to get rid of that."

Kate laughed. "I don't think a muffin qualifies as country cooking Aunty Joan."

"Well I do," she said taking another off the plate. "Now tell me all about this fancy hospital of yours."

They chatted for quite some time about her work and her new flat in Notting Hill and how she loved the parks and the many museums close by.

"By the way, one of the surgeons I work with happens to be your nephew Martin Ellingham."

Aunty Joan's face lit up. "Marty…oh that's wonderful. So you've seen him? How is he?"

"He looks well. On a personal level I can't tell you much more than that, though. I have worked with him quite often over the last few months. He's an exceptional surgeon."

"I always knew he would be." Aunty Joan's face took on a sad expression and she looked out the window at the rain beating down. "Better than his own father I hear." She laughed but it was without humour. "My brother couldn't stand it that Marty's academic record at Imperial College outstripped everything in the last fifty years including his own - belittled the boy at every opportunity." Her mouth was grim.

Kate looked puzzled. "Why would he do that? Surely he must be proud of Martin's achievements?"

"Nothing Martin did, or can still do for that matter, could make him proud. Both his parents are the most selfish and self-centred people I know." Aunty Joan sipped her tea. "They never cared for him. Never gave him the time of day. Packed him off to boarding school when he was six years old." She shook her head sadly. "I begged my brother to let him come to school here – he could have stayed with us at the farm. But Christopher wouldn't have any son of his going to a village school and growing up like a yokel as he put it. My brother, you see is the ultimate snob."

Kate was appalled, "So Martin was sent away to boarding school aged six? That's so sad."

Aunty Joan poured more tea into their cups. "Yes...and what's even sadder was that the poor boy was unmercifully bullied. His parents had never allowed him to have friends. He wasn't allowed to mix with children of his own age at all and as a result he was introverted and shy." Joan's face looked sad. "When he was thrown into a boarding school with sixty other boys he just didn't know how to interact with them. So he became a target."

She sighed. "When I saw him again that first summer holiday it was as if he was dead inside - wouldn't talk, never smiled and he would hover around Uncle Phil like a little puppy. Phil just let him be. Paid him no mind - let him help around the farm without making a fuss and it made him feel safe again."

Joan looked at Kate. "Marty was such a sensitive and affectionate boy but his parents and that boarding school made a good job of killing that side of him. I think that deep down he's still sensitive and affectionate. But he's learnt to hide it very well."

Kate felt so sad for the little boy. She thought of Martin as he was now and suddenly his abrasive and closed off manner made a lot of sense to her. No wonder he distanced himself from people. How could parents do that to their own child? If she ever had children she knew that nothing would persuade her to be separated from them when they were growing up.

"Well he certainly doesn't show a sensitive side at work," said Kate, "Martin has something of a reputation for his abrupt and sometimes frightening manner."

Aunty Joan's eyes widened. "Frightening?"

"Yes…he can be quite intimidating. He's scathing to anyone who fails to meet his standards. And his standards are _very_ high." Kate fiddled with her teaspoon. "The nursing staff and junior registrars are terrified of him. But he is a first rate doctor and they are lucky to have him as their tutor.

Aunty Joan considered what Kate had just said. She had never seen Martin as anything but polite and considerate towards her. Maybe not so much with the people in the village on the odd occasion that he been to visit when he was at medical school.

He's an exceptional surgeon," said Kate, "and you should be very proud of him."

"Oh I am – and I would be, even if he was a humble country doctor."

Kate smiled. She couldn't see Martin being humble, even as a country doctor. Humble was not a word one would associate with him at all.

Aunty Joan seemed puzzled. "What you said about him having a frightening manner - that's a side of Marty that I've never seen."

"I have and it is something to behold. He can be very harsh if something displeases him." Kate regaled her with how she had first met Martin and Joan laughed. "Oh my. He must have been completely thrown by you Kate."

"Mmm...I don't think so. If anything, I was a bit thrown by him. He is a very imposing and forbidding man. His eyes looked like they could have bored right through me. And, to make things worse, the next time I saw him he was only wearing a towel around his waist."

"What?" Kate told Aunty Joan the story and she laughed so hard that the tears rolled down her cheeks. "Oh that's funny. Knowing how shy Marty is, I'm surprised he didn't faint with embarrassment."

"No he didn't. Instead he stood there looking as dignified as he could while sporting just a towel around his waist and he growled at me to get out. I suppose it didn't help matters that I saw the funny side of it either. If looks could kill I would have been carried out there on a stretcher."

Aunty Joan took Kate's hand. "I miss him so much. I know he is very busy. Perhaps when you see him again you can send him my love and tell him my phone number hasn't changed." She said pointedly.

Kate spent another hour with Aunty Joan before she had to leave. On her drive home she thought about Martin and the sad young life he must have led and how it had shaped the man he had become – driven, withdrawn, defensive, shy and, yes…vulnerable. No-one could come out of a childhood like that unscathed. Her heart felt heavy when she thought about it. Was there any way to get behind the walls he'd built around himself? And what would she find if she did? The more she thought about it the more she wanted know.


	12. Chapter 12

To celebrate New Year in London was a dream for millions of people from all over the world and the city always seemed to be bursting at the seams with revellers letting their hair down and doing silly things. For medical staff, it meant an enormous load on emergency services and pulling any shift over that time was known for its punishing workload. Kate had volunteered for the shift. She didn't mind as she definitely did not wanted to get involved with Jen and her crowd of friends, who it would seem, were intending to get as drunk as possible and spend the night roaming the streets of London with other like-minded people. Kate couldn't think of anything less appealing.

As night fell on New Year's Eve, the hospital was already seeing a steady stream of patients reporting to the A&E. So far no specialist procedures requiring their services had been called in but the night was still young. She noticed that Martin Ellingham was on call and when she flicked back through the roster she saw that he'd been on call over Christmas as well. Did the man not have any family or friends? It was almost as if he preferred to be working. Well to be fair, so did she at times.

The hours ticked by and then just after the fireworks and chaos at midnight, she heard their team being paged. She jumped up and headed swiftly to the theatre, tying her hair into a chignon as she walked. She turned into the corridor leading to the scrub room with her hands behind her bent head as she tried to fix the clips in place and walked straight into Martin Ellingham. Again! Oh God.

He hadn't yet scrubbed up this time so his hands shot out to steady her – only her arms were behind her head so his hands found her waist instead. Once again her eyes travelled up to meet his intense grey-blue ones. He was so close. For a moment her hands came to rest on his bare arms. Kate felt a shock of physical energy race through her body. She held her breath expecting a blasting from him but he just stared down at her with his unnerving gaze, his hands still on her waist. Then his arms dropped slowly to his sides.

"Umm…sorry," she said, stepping back. "We seem to make a habit of doing this." When he still didn't speak she smiled up at him and said, "Happy New Year." He looked momentarily confused as if he'd forgotten what day it was. Then he grunted and stepped past her.

He was such a strange man, thought Kate as she began to scrub up. He tried so hard to push people away with his rudeness and impatience and yet he worked in a field where people relied on him and where he helped them, healed them and gave them back a meaningful life. You couldn't do all of that if you didn't care about people. It just didn't make sense.

In theatre she watched him perform a small miracle on the patient laid out on the table. The procedure was to repair severed arteries in a man who'd fallen from one of the statues in Trafalgar Square onto the spiked fencing surrounding it. His condition was not made any better by the amount of alcohol he'd consumed and he was going to have a rough ride in the days following the surgery. But Ellingham wove his magic and repaired the arteries that had been clamped off by the A&E team on the scene. Lucky for the patient they'd known what they were doing or he would have bled out. Ellingham was scathing about how some idiotic people deserved their lot in life for being stupid. No-one contradicted him.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

There was another emergency for them about two hours later. This one didn't go so well for the team. The patient's limb had been crushed by a car that had ploughed into some pedestrians and it required amputation but the massive blood loss at the scene and other factors had counted against the young woman and she died on the table.

Ellingham had tried everything to resuscitate her. In the face of the crisis he was calm, working quickly to try and bring her vital signs back. He wouldn't give up until he'd exhausted every facet of his skill as a doctor but finally he had to step back and declare the time of death. He ripped his surgical mask from his face and turned towards the automatic doors but not before Kate had seen the expression on his face. He looked defeated and upset; his eyes pools of anguish. She'd never seen him like that but then he would have to go and break the news to the family waiting anxiously in the visitor's lounge down the corridor. She felt sorry for them and the lifeless young woman who still lay on the table in the theatre. But she also felt sorry for Martin.

Kate followed him into the scrub room. He was at the basins having shed his gown and gloves. He'd washed his hands and was standing motionless just staring down at them. Kate pulled some paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to him. He took them without looking at her.

She moved closer and put her hand on his bare arm and he jerked as if she'd stung him. He did look at her then, his eyes searching hers and found empathy there as if she knew exactly how he felt right then. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders becoming, in that split second, Martin Ellingham the surgeon again. He turned and strode out of the scrub room and down the corridor to the visitor's lounge.

Kate tidied up and went to change into clean scrubs. She still had two hours to go on her shift and hoped they wouldn't pull another emergency like the one they'd just had. When she'd written up her report her thoughts turned once more to Martin. On a whim she headed for his rooms in the consultants' wing. She just wanted to know that he was alright or if he needed anything.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin sat in his consulting room. He'd not bothered to put the main lights on, preferring only the softer light from his desk lamp. He was seated in one of the patient chairs, his long legs stretched in front of him and his hands gripping the armrests. He'd just come back from telling the young woman's family that she had succumbed to her injuries. It didn't matter how many times he had to do it, it never became easier. The only way he could get through it was to be as to the point as possible – no sugar coating. He had quietly broken the bad news, explaining in the briefest of layman's terms how the injuries had resulted in the young woman's death. But he could tell that after his first words the family had gone into emotional shock and could hardly have heard the rest of what he'd said. He'd left them huddled together in tears, their faces registering bewildered disbelief and panic. He'd walked away, unable to stay a moment longer.

No matter how he tried to reason with himself that the woman's death had been inevitable, he somehow still felt responsible; that he should have been the one to pull her from the abyss. He knew he'd done everything medically possible to save her life but it didn't erase the feeling that he'd failed. He'd failed her. He'd failed her family. And it just felt worse knowing the young woman couldn't have been more than twenty years old.

Martin heard a soft knock on the consulting room door. He looked up to see Kate standing there. Instead of wanting to chase her away, he found that he was almost relieved to see her. He stared at her. In the soft light from the desk lamp she looked so beautiful. Her hair was pinned up, revealing her neck and the soft curve of her jaw.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, coming to stand in front of him.

He couldn't answer but continued to stare at her, as if by doing so it could somehow ease the emptiness he felt.

She seemed to read his mind. "You did everything you could."

"Yes," his voice almost inaudible. "Too little, too late though – such a young life."

Kate came to him then, going down on her haunches next to his chair and she put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently. Her touch sent a shock through his body and he stiffened. It was like a jolt of electricity.

Her eyes were soft and concerned as she said, "She had the best possible chance with you as her surgeon. If there'd been any hope at all, you would have made it happen. But there wasn't." Her hand moved to cover his where it gripped the armrest of his chair.

Martin looked down at her. She was so close to him that he could see a little pulse throbbing in her throat. How he wished he could pull her into his arms so that he could find some comfort there. His eyes came to rest on her lips – so soft and inviting. He wondered what it would be like to kiss them. He closed his eyes and sighed. You're a fool Ellingham. If Kate Rushton knew what you were thinking she'd run a mile.

He felt Kate squeeze his hand gently and then she got up. "Can I get you something? Tea maybe or coffee?"

He shook his head. "No thank you." He rubbed a hand over his eyes, "I will be down shortly to complete the paperwork."

She nodded. "I'll get it ready for you." She smiled gently at him then left him to his thoughts.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks one and all for your constructive feedback. Even though this story deviates from the actual DM story arc, I created it in order to explore what Martin could have become – what was there before haemophobia forged another path for him. I am so pleased that most of you are enjoying this journey with me. I love the character of Martin Ellingham. There is so much to work with from a creative writing point of view and I am enjoying it very much.**


	13. Chapter 13

Kate didn't see Ellingham again until a few days into the New Year and when she did he was curt and, if at all possible, even more ill-tempered than usual. She wondered if he was still brooding over the loss of the patient in the early hours of New Year's Day. He'd seemed so upset as if he blamed himself for the outcome. Whatever the reason, he was certainly in a foul mood that afternoon and she heard him tearing a strip off of one of the scrub nurses about getting the correct size gloves _before_ he was ready to put them on not after. Then before they started he tore into the assisting registrar over something he couldn't answer about the procedure.

"How much preparation have you done Bryant? Not a lot it would seem." He glared at the unfortunate registrar. "Do you think I just walk in here without studying each case - or do you think you know everything already? If this is the kind of effort you put into your work I say God help your patients – they're going to need it." His eyes were frosty.

The atmosphere in the theatre was tense as Ellingham turned his attention to the patient lying prepped on the table. His frown was pronounced and he barked instructions at Bryant as if he was a drill instructor. Kate sighed. She wondered what had got him so riled up. She glanced around making sure that the team was ready and focused. Everyone was on their nerves including her.

After the shaky start, things seemed to settle down until they were well into the procedure. Then Judy Smith, the newest member of the team messed up in a grand fashion. She dropped a large metal dish during the procedure and it hit the floor with a tremendous crash. The noise startled everyone. Ellingham froze then turned slowly, his eyes furious as he let Judy have it, calling her a clumsy, incompetent idiot and telling her she should consider another career if she couldn't do even the simplest things.

Kate could have slapped him. What was the _matter_ with him? She glared at him over her surgical mask which went completely unnoticed by him as he turned his attention back to the patient. She realised that he had been at a crucial point in the delicate procedure and the sudden loud noise had made him jump visibly – it could have caused him to make a serious error. But to go off like that? Today was the first time Kate had actually witnessed Ellingham's famous temper first-hand and she could now see why it was talked about with awe. The controlled fury was more frightening than any full blown tantrum.

When he'd finished the procedure he handed over to Bryant to close up, glaring at him as if to say, 'don't mess it up'. Then without so much as a nod to the team he stalked out of the operating theatre, pulling off his mask as the automatic doors opened in front of him.

Kate finished up and went to find Judy who, predictably, was in tears in the nurses' lounge.

"It'll be alright Judy - everyone makes mistakes."

Judy sniffed, "He'll never want to work with me again. He'll always remember me as the nurse who messed up. I might as well quit."

Kate did her best to reassure her that everything would be alright and that she just had to be more careful next time. Judy had excellent abilities and Kate had no doubt that she would progress up the ranks very well. Her frayed nerves were understandable given Ellingham's reputation.

Kate's temper was still simmering as she stood in front of the mirror in the locker room. Curls had escaped her clips in most places as usual so she pulled them all out and ran a brush through her long hair. She thought about the incident again. Ellingham might be the most senior person in the operating theatre but he had no right to be so harsh. It was highly inappropriate coming from him – he should know better. She suddenly knew what she had to do. She straightened her scrubs, pulled open the door and headed for the consultants' wing.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The door to Ellingham's rooms was closed and she opened it without knocking to find his receptionist still seated behind her desk. She was a neat, grey haired woman who looked enquiringly at her over the top of her spectacles. "Can I help you?" she asked in a polite but no-nonsense manner.

"Is he in?" asked Kate cocking a thumb at the closed consulting room door, her tone clearly hostile.

"Yes, but he's…" and before the receptionist could finish Kate stormed to the door and threw it open. Ellingham was standing next to his desk still dressed in his scrubs and looked up as she burst in.

"What do you want?" he growled. He still looked annoyed and his brows almost met over his nose.

Kate shut the door firmly and walked over to where he stood. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him and he stared haughtily down at her, annoyance and impatience emanating from him in waves.

Kate squared up to him and gave him a withering look. "How dare you treat one of my team like that?" she demanded, her voice low and tight.

"She deserved it." His tone was unremorseful.

"She made a mistake…everyone makes mistakes…or doesn't that apply to you Mr Ellingham?" She made it sound like an insult.

"Mistake? I call it incompetence. Her so called _mistake_ could have caused me to damage the artery …and that's not something to be taken lightly, is it Miss Rushton?" He enunciated each word as he spat them out.

"I understand that…but it still doesn't give you the right to speak to her, or anyone else for that matter, in that contemptuous and insulting manner… _and_ in front of the entire team too. It hardly inspires confidence in someone who's still learning the ropes."

"Well she shouldn't _still be learning the ropes_ in my operating theatre, should she? She should be well past that stage."

Their voices were steadily getting louder.

"Oh...is that so? And how is she supposed to get the experience if not by working in an _actual_ operating theatre…mmm?" asked Kate. "Oh, I understand – she can work in an operating theatre – just not in yours, is that it?"

"That's _exactly_ it." He lifted his chin and his eyes cut through her like blades.

Kate looked at his forbidding face. He seemed even more remote and unapproachable than ever but it wouldn't stop her from giving him a piece of her mind. She leaned closer; her voice low and quivering with rage, "You might be a prince among surgeons _Mister_ Ellingham, but it doesn't make you superior to anyone else. _You_ don't get to decide who works with you in theatre - that's _my_ job and you might do well to learn that mentoring people instead of attacking them for their mistakes might be a better investment in the long run. _That's_ how you build good teams." Her eyes flashed with fury. "Have you no consideration for how others might feel when you lash out like that…when you humiliate people who don't come up to your lofty standards."

He glared down at her, his mouth set and his eyes glittering but he didn't speak and it just fanned Kate's temper even more.

"Clearly you don't give a damn." She lifted her chin as she glared up at him. "Tell me…do you get some kind of twisted satisfaction from intimidating and frightening the living daylights out of everyone around you?"

His frown deepened and his eyes narrowed.

Kate's cheeks were now flushed with anger and her accent became more pronounced as her anger grew. "You need to take a serious look at your attitude Mister Ellingham - you are high-handed and arrogant and you lack the ability to see people as human beings with _actual_ feelings." She tossed her head so that her hair flicked back from her face. "But then how would you possibly know, seeing that you don't _have_ any feelings, do you?" As soon as Kate said the words she wanted to retract them. She knew they weren't true. He'd shown deep feeling the day his patient had died on his watch but he incensed her so much with his infuriating silence that she wanted to get some kind of reaction out of him.

Ellingham looked momentarily taken aback, but then Kate felt a shiver of alarm as his face took on a thunderous expression. He slowly stepped forward until he was inches from her and in a voice taut with anger bit out, "Now who's being high-handed, Miss Rushton? If it's a demonstration of feelings you want, let me oblige you." His hands shot out and he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her roughly against his chest and his mouth came down on hers in a punishing kiss. Kate froze with shock. He held her shoulders in a vice-like grip as his mouth possessed hers. His lips moved firmly over hers, forcing hers slightly apart and capturing her bottom lip between his. He held her mouth captive like that for a long moment before he let her go so suddenly she almost lost her balance.

He looked down at her and his face held an expression that hovered somewhere between defiance and disbelief at what he had just done and he tensed, fully expecting her to slap his face.

Kate's initial shock gave way to smouldering indignation. They faced each other down for what felt like ages and then his eyes widened as Kate's face took on a menacing look and her eyes narrowed. She grabbed a handful of his scrub shirt with her left hand and yanked him closer as her right hand roughly pulled his head down and she kissed him back in just as bruising a manner as he'd just done. Now it was his turn to be shocked. For a moment he stood rigid, his arms at his sides but as her lips moved over his, his resistance eased and she felt him respond, his mouth now actively seeking hers and it sent a shock of desire coursing through her. She moaned softly as her lips parted under his and their kiss deepened, becoming urgent and sensuous. Fury slowly gave way to passion.

Kate relaxed against him and his arms went around her, pulling her close. Through the thin fabric of their scrubs she felt the heat from his body and her arms went around his neck, her fingers in his soft hair. Their lips explored with a desperate urgency. He groaned against her mouth as he gathered her against the length of his body, his hand in the small of her back, pressing her even closer as she moulded herself to him.

Eventually he lifted his head, both of them breathless as they stood in each other's arms trying desperately to comprehend what was happening between them. His eyes were dark and intense - hers wide and a little bewildered. She could feel his heart pounding against her. In that moment nothing else existed but the two of them. His eyes dropped to her mouth - her lips were parted and slightly swollen from their kisses. He couldn't resist and slowly lowered his head until his mouth found hers again, this time in a gentle, deep and achingly sensual kiss that robbed them both of their breath. Kate felt like she was on fire. She wanted the kiss to last forever. She wanted his hands to touch her; she wanted to be closer to him, closer still and…

The sound of the phone ringing through the closed door and a voice answering cut into their consciousness and had them crashing swiftly to earth. Reality flooded in, cold and unwelcome as it ripped the fragile moment apart.

Kate slowly stepped away from him and his arms dropped to his sides. They stared into each other's eyes as if they could find answers there - both breathing heavily; both dazed and uncertain. So many emotions fought for attention, confusing them and rendering them both speechless. She backed away, trembling with the intensity of her feelings and she knew she had to leave before she launched herself into his arms again. She turned suddenly and fled the room without speaking.

Martin expelled a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes. God Ellingham, that was the stupidest thing you've ever done in your life, he thought. He could only imagine what she must be thinking. If she'd looked shocked it was nothing compared to what he felt now. He felt as if he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning. And how could he justify his actions - his impulsive, unstoppable actions? Stupid, _stupid_ \- idiot.

It had been stupid but then he hadn't imagined the passion that had flared between them and he hadn't imagined her kiss or her soft body yielding to his. Her lips had been sweet and sensual, holding the promise of so much more. He sank down in the chair behind his desk unable to think straight.

His receptionist knocked softly and looked in. "Sorry about that Mr Ellingham, I couldn't stop her from…."

He held up his hand, "It's alright Mrs Blake…just…just close the door please." She didn't know what had just taken place but she was puzzled by his demeanour. "Can I get you anything…?" He looked dazed.

"Nothing…thank you. You can go now...yes...thank you," he said. His tone was distracted. It was not like him at all and she was about to say something more but looking at his face, she thought better of it and closed the door softly.


	14. Chapter 14

Kate hurried back to the nurses' lounge, praying that it would be empty by now. She couldn't bear to see or speak to anyone. She was completely shaken at what had just happened. The passion that had ignited between them had blindsided her. What had started off as an angry retaliation on her part had quickly turned into a passionate storm of feelings - physical but also emotional. It was instant and so overpowering that she'd had no resistance to it whatsoever. If they'd been alone, she had no doubt they would have taken it further.

Where did that come from? How did it happen so quickly? Or had she just not noticed the depth of her attraction to him? She had never experienced such raw physical feelings before - feelings so powerful that she would have thrown all caution to the wind for this man. The feeling of his firm body against hers, the warm male scent of him, his silky hair under her hands and his mouth…my God the way he kissed drove her crazy. She felt dazed and confused.

Thankfully the locker room was empty and she sank down on a bench and put her hands up to her burning cheeks. What now?

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin's heart was still pounding ten minutes after Kate had left the room. Never in his life had he experienced such powerful feelings - feelings he normally kept under strict control. No - that wasn't true. These were feelings he never even knew he possessed. They had completely robbed him of his power to reason and he'd acted on an impulse so strong that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The fire in Kate's eyes had mesmerised him. Her beauty tied his tongue in knots. She intrigued him, annoyed him, caught him off guard all the time and wouldn't be intimidated by his arrogant and abrasive manner. And her smile melted his miserable heart every time he saw it. But today there was something else - her words had cut him to the quick and he'd needed her to know that he _was_ human. That he was a man - with feelings every bit as deep and messed up as the next man. He'd never felt the need to prove that to anyone before - ever. What he'd done to show her though was completely unacceptable. It was impulsive and ungentlemanly and stupid. And he was not normally any of those things. But the minute his mouth had touched hers he was lost - his willpower useless and lame.

What scared him most was that he didn't know what he would have done had they been alone. He only knew that her body against his had driven him insane with desire and he could easily have made love to her right there with no mind to the consequences. Such behaviour was completely alien to his nature. Or was it? He didn't know anymore. These were new and powerful feelings. Kate seemed to get behind all the walls he'd built. She just appeared behind his defences as if she'd always been there and she stirred up feelings of passion and longing that he didn't even know he was capable of feeling.

He slowly got up and walked to the small bathroom and stripped off his scrubs. He turned on the shower and stood under it for what felt like an hour but nothing could wash away the intense longing for her.

He finally dressed and switched off the lights in his rooms and headed home. Home. What did that mean? A place where he went to eat and sleep - empty and cold. When he opened the door to his dark townhouse a feeling of intense loneliness engulfed him and he sank onto the sofa in the dark sitting room and laid his head against the back of it. He sat like that for ages, his eyes closed and all he saw was Kate - her soft expressive mouth, her flowing hair, her beautiful eyes - he could almost feel her warm and yielding body against his. He could hardly breathe with longing for her. He felt restless but at the same time he didn't want to move because he wanted to savour the image of Kate and how she'd felt in his arms. For one moment in time he'd felt connected to another human being in a way he'd never experienced before; connected with every fibre of his being. He'd wanted to lose himself in her.

He sighed deeply and became aware of an ache deep inside that radiated right through him. It burned with a crippling intensity. And then the realisation hit him – suddenly - like some great force smashing into his heart. He loved her. He loved her - and he finally understood the meaning of the word. The exquisite ache exploded in him causing him intense pain and intense joy all at the same time. He loved her and he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that his life was never going to be the same again.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate lay in the bath that night replaying the scene in Martin's consulting room over and over. After her initial shock and indignation at what he'd done she'd completely surprised herself by treating him in exactly the same way. Only it backfired on both of them. As soon as he'd responded to her kiss and his mouth had begun to move over hers she was lost. Something took over. Call it passion, call it lust - whatever it was, the power of it was completely overwhelming. When he'd pulled her close and she felt his body against hers she knew that if he'd wanted to make love to her she would have let him and the realisation shocked her to the core. She didn't know she was capable of feeling like that. She'd had boyfriends before. None of them had been able to stir up such powerful urges in her and so instantly too. Was this what people meant by chemistry? Whatever it was it had been a powerful thing – and she knew that for a moment he had felt something too. They were completely swept up in each other and would probably not have stopped if they'd been alone.

Whatever had occurred between them had changed something deep inside of her. The physical attraction was one thing but it went much deeper than that. It was knowing that somehow she wanted this man in her life. She wanted to get to know him - to find out what lay behind those deeply guarded eyes and that forbidding face. She felt a longing and a sudden need to be with him and be a part of him. Was this love? How could you fall in love so quickly and so completely?

She closed her eyes and once again saw his eyes as they'd looked down at her, dark with passion and she could almost feel the strength of his arms around her. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers again so badly but she knew it wasn't going to happen. It was a once-off thing. He'd been angry at her hurtful and arrogant remark and he'd used the kiss as a way of proving a point. Yes it had developed into something neither of them had expected but he would probably be regretting his actions by now. The always-in-control surgeon would not like it that he had let his control slip. Or he would think she was a pushover - someone who dished out kisses on a whim. He'd already hinted that she'd encouraged Alan Peterson. Oh God.

She mentally braced herself for the awkward encounter she knew she'd have with him in the morning. How on earth was she going to handle that? Her biggest concern now was how she was going to function normally in his presence again when the mere sight of him would probably make her shake.


	15. Chapter 15

It had just gone 6.30 am and Martin had already changed into scrubs in his rooms. He had two procedures booked and it was almost time to go down to the theatre. He downed the rest of his espresso and went to brush his teeth in the _en suite_ bathroom. He looked in the mirror. There were dark rings under his eyes - evidence of a sleepless night; a night spent tossing and turning as he'd tried to come to grips with this new and overwhelming feeling.

Love. Was everyone rendered so helpless by it? He'd always thought he had a comfortable life; a life over which he had control. He came and went as he pleased, cooked and ate what he wanted, read, worked on his clocks and walked often, went to museums and bookshops or to a concert every now and then when the mood took him. He didn't have to socialise or interact with anyone outside the hospital and that suited him. But when he'd sat on the sofa last night it all felt so empty and meaningless. And that's because he'd realised that he could never be complete without Kate in his life. From now on there would always be something missing.

Over the years he'd heard some of his colleagues gushing about being in love and he'd always thought them weak and stupid. But there was nothing weak or stupid about what he was feeling now. He felt pummelled and pushed around by the power of it and he knew he would have to do something if he ever wanted to function normally again. He rubbed a hand over his face then squared his shoulders. God help him, he would have to find a way to deal with it and move on.

Kate had looked so shocked when she'd left his rooms. She would probably be furious and he wouldn't blame her if she laid a complaint of harassment against him. But then she had responded – he _hadn't_ imagined it. The whole incident confused him and he sighed. It probably meant nothing to her - nothing at all. Stop reading things into it Ellingham. Now that she'd had time to think about it she would probably be kicking herself for what happened.

A woman like Kate could have any man she wanted. Why on God's earth would she want to be with him? He wasn't good looking like that arse Peterson. He wasn't charming and fun to be around and being fun seemed to be a prerequisite for everything these days if he had to believe all the inane chatter he heard on a daily basis. No, he was not fun at all and Kate would find him lacking. Pathetic. Just as everyone else always had - his parents, his fellow scholars, his colleagues...he was someone to be ridiculed and gossiped about. The only time people didn't find him pathetic or lacking was when he was their surgeon.

Usually he could handle anything like this that came his way. He'd learnt to cope since he was six years old - bullied and mocked and ridiculed by the boys in his dormitory and ostracised by everyone. He'd had to cope. He'd become a master at not letting his feelings show and he was still a master at not allowing anyone to see through his façade of indifference. It didn't mean that he wasn't aware of what went on behind his back or that it didn't sometimes get to him. But when it came to Kate it was different; he didn't know if he could handle it - if he could bear to be the focus of her derision or contempt. His feelings were too raw and exposed and he was anything but indifferent to her. He sighed deeply – no amount of agonising over it would change what she thought. Best just to get on with it. He took one last look in the mirror. Time to go. He just hoped he could hold up when he saw her.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Down in theatre, Martin scrubbed up with more vigour than was necessary and his arms and hands were red by the time he'd finished. The scrub nurse stood impatiently waiting to assist him with his surgical gown and gloves. He looked deep in thought as she secured the gown around his torso. His usual impatience was absent which puzzled her as she bore the brunt of that impatience on a regular basis.

He adjusted his gloves as he walked towards the door then stopped as he heard Kate's voice in the corridor. He stiffened, the blood pounded in his ears and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. And then she was in front of him and he felt his heart racing – she looked so beautiful with her face tilted up to look at him. Her eyes were deep grey today - her lips looked so soft and he couldn't keep his eyes off of them as he remembered how they'd felt under his.

Their eyes met - his were round and a little anxious, hers wide and softly questioning. An exquisite tension arced between them, trapping them in a moment charged with uncertainty and unanswered questions. Martin swallowed hard expecting her to brush him off and he wished they were alone so he could tell her how sorry he was for behaving so boorishly. But there was no chance of that happening. He was about to walk past her when she suddenly said quietly, "Good morning Mr Ellingham, we've a busy morning ahead of us. Is everything alright here?"

Completely taken aback he could only stare at her. He expected stony silence or a frosty greeting but not this friendly and calm mien. He was confused so his response was awkward, "Morning…yes…umm…fine…everything's fine…umm…thank you Miss Rushton," he mumbled. He saw a little smile lift the corners of her mouth as she stared up at him. He couldn't look away.

The scrub nurse looked from one to the other. She was puzzled by Ellingham's courteous and subdued tone because he usually just grunted irritably at everyone. She wasn't complaining. At least she'd started the day without getting a bollocking for once.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate watched Martin as he inserted a cannula into the neck of the patient laid out in front of him. He worked with such confidence and dexterity; no-one would be in any doubt that this man knew what he was doing. His eyes were intensely focused; his hands working with the confidence of years of experience. Such big hands - hands that had held her so close to his body. She gave a little cough and busied herself with the tray of instruments next to her.

Kate's thoughts drifted to the conversation she'd had with Aunty Joan about Martin's upbringing. She'd said that he was painfully shy and introverted. One would never say so about the man working next to her now. He was so in charge – so sure of himself. And when he wasn't working, his brusque and unapproachable demeanour hid the shyness very well. His defence was to push people away. If they weren't close, they couldn't hurt him.

He didn't appear to have any friends - hadn't been down to Portwenn to see his Aunt in years. He didn't seem to be seeing anyone – well, not since Lara Perkins anyway or she would have heard about it on the hospital grapevine. She felt a twinge of envy. He'd felt confident enough to accept an invitation to go for a drink with Lara. Confident enough to let it progress to the point that he had slept with her but not to the point where he was willing to get emotionally involved. From what she'd gathered from Meghan's graphic account of the relationship, Martin had backed out of it at the first sign of serious intent on Lara's part. So he was alright with the occasional dalliance but not with commitment.

Kate looked at him; her pulse always seemed to quicken when she did. She wasn't like Lara who could throw herself at a man and she wasn't into dalliances. It just wasn't an option. But she wanted so much to be with him, to get to know him. How that would be possible she didn't know. Martin was probably cringing with embarrassment at his rash behaviour and wouldn't think she'd actually want to be with him. Not if she understood what Aunty Joan had said about him. She didn't quite know what to do about it though. What she really wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and run her fingers through his silky hair and pull his head down so that she could feel those sensuous lips claim hers in a smouldering kiss, and feel his hands touch…

"Miss Rushton?" Kate heard her name being called as if from a distance. Her head shot up. Ellingham was looking at her over the top of his surgical mask. His one eyebrow raised and his eyes curious. He was holding out his gloved hand. "Clamp?" he said quietly. And when she just stared at him he said wryly, "Whenever you're ready…" Instead of his usual contemptuous anger, his voice sounded amused.

Oh God she'd missed his request for the instrument – she would normally anticipate his requirements without him having to ask. That's what you get for daydreaming Kate Rushton! She sighed with frustration.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

After finishing up his paperwork in his rooms, Martin looked at the time. It was already 7 pm – a little past his supper time so he would just have something light when he got home. He turned off the lights and strode down to the ground floor and as he turned into the corridor leading to the street outside the hospital, he saw Kate walking just ahead of him. With his longer stride he reached the door just as she did and he leaned forward to hold it open for her. She turned to say thank you then saw it was him. A faint blush crept into her cheeks as she passed close to him.

"Thank you."

The door closed behind them and she gave him a little smile as she walked down the steps.

"Umm….Miss Rushton." he called after her.

She turned, "Yes?"

He came to stand in front of her and she tilted her head to look up at him. He was dressed in a grey suit, a light blue shirt and a dark brick-red tie. He looked handsome – and nervous. Nervous wasn't exactly a word she would associate with Martin Ellingham but he definitely wasn't at ease.

The light from the street lights cast shadows around his eyes and mouth. His eyes seemed wider than usual as he stared down at her. He swallowed hard.

"Yes Mr Ellingham?" she prompted him, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

The noise of traffic and people chattering as they walked by on the pavement receded into a backdrop of noise as they faced each other.

He gave a little cough and dropped his chin. "Umm…yes. I…uhh…I want to apologise." He swallowed hard again and then hurriedly went on, "for my behaviour yesterday, umm…it was unforgivable," his voice petered out and he looked at her from under his brows. He reminded Kate of a repentant schoolboy.

"I see." She thought for a moment, a little frown on her face. "Umm…this behaviour you're referring to Mr Ellingham - would that be in the operating theatre or in your consulting room?"

He frowned. Why would he apologise for his behaviour in the operating theatre? "Umm – in my consulting room."

She seemed to think about it for a moment then sighed deeply, "I'm afraid I can't accept your apology."

He looked as if she'd slapped him. "I don't understand."

"I can't accept your apology…because if I did, I would also have to apologise, seeing that I behaved in exactly the same manner, didn't I?"

His frown deepened. This wasn't exactly going the way he expected it to go. "I'm sorry…I don't understand," he said again.

A little smile played around Kate's mouth and eyes. "It's quite simple. I can't apologise for something I'm not sorry for, can I? And that's because I rather enjoyed it."

Martin's eyes were now round as saucers. "You…enjoyed…it?"

"Yes…I enjoyed it very much." She turned to go but there was a hint of mischief on her face as she looked back at him. "At one point I thought you did too but maybe I was mistaken." she walked to the edge of the pavement and put her hand up to hail a taxi as it approached.

Martin stared after her, his mouth opening and closing but the words were trapped as his befuddled brain tried to grasp what she'd just said. She got into the taxi and he watched as it edged into the traffic and disappeared.

What had she just said? That she'd enjoyed what happened between them even though he'd lost control and kissed her like some over amorous teenager? And she hadn't been mistaken – he had enjoyed it more than he could possibly say. But her words confused him. He was no good at these subtle games. Did it mean that she was not averse to his approaching her – maybe not averse to his touching her? He hailed a taxi and on the ride home became aware of a certain lightness that he couldn't quite define. It was a lightness that held a glimmer of hope in it.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	16. Chapter 16

It was almost a week before Martin saw her again. He'd been away in Edinburgh giving a series of lectures at the Edinburgh Medical School and he'd had a lot of time to think - a lot of time to make himself nervous. He realised that the next move was up to him. She'd given him an opening and he wanted so much to take her up on it. Night after night he'd lain awake and tried to squash the crippling fear that lurked in the pit of his stomach. He'd tried to silence the voice that told him not to act on it, " _she'll laugh at you – find you pathetic. Because you are…pathetic…always have been."_ No! For once in his life, having the chance to be with her, even if it was only for a short time, far out-weighed his fear of rejection. If he didn't try he'd never know.

And now he was back at St Mary's walking down to the theatre complex to examine an emergency MVA patient and he knew she'd be there. His nerves were humming; the anticipation almost had him shaking. He pushed open the outer doors to the theatre complex and saw her immediately. His heart started racing and his mouth went dry. She was so beautiful with her hair pulled back in a chignon. She was talking to one of the registrars outside her little office, already dressed in scrubs. The young doctor looked as if he was flirting with her. Martin frowned.

When Kate saw him walk in her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat. He was gorgeous. So tall and handsome in his beautifully tailored dark suit and blue striped tie. Their eyes met and she smiled slightly and she was sure he did too but then he looked at the registrar and his expression changed – a frown darkened his features; his eyes were like grey steel and his lip curled as he glared at him. It had the desired effect on the registrar and he made himself scarce. Kate smiled inwardly. If she didn't know better she would think Martin was jealous.

The procedure went without incident and he nodded at Kate on his way out of the operating theatre. In the scrub room he lingered hoping she would come in and it wasn't long before he heard her voice in the corridor greeting some of the team. And then she was there.

"Oh Hi," she smiled at him. "I thought you'd left already."

"Uhh…no." He reached for some paper towels.

They faced each other across the small room; their eyes locked and their hearts pounding. The silence stretched between them, charged with a fragile tension. Martin swallowed hard. Say something you fool. But the words were trapped.

He eventually threw the paper towels in the bin and gave a nervous little cough. "Umm…Miss Rushton…I wanted to…uhh…" Just then a nurse walked in carrying clean linen. He frowned deeply and closed his eyes in frustration. Then he said, "Umm…would you mind coming to my rooms when you're finished here?"

Kate's eyes widened.

He looked at the nurse who was packing the linen onto a shelf in the corner. "There's something I…umm…want to discuss with you," and then he was gone.

Kate was intrigued – that could mean a number of things. Either something during the procedure had met with his disapproval or he had something personal on his mind. She hoped more than anything it was the latter.

She completed her reports and went to the locker room and changed into black jeans and a soft red cashmere top. Her hair was a bit unruly but she tidied it as best she could and then, draping her coat over her arm, she picked up her holdall and made her way to the consultants' wing.

Martin had hurried back to his rooms, taken a quick shower and changed back into his suit. It was early evening and his receptionist had long since gone home so when he heard the outer door open he knew it must be Kate. A rush of nerves made his mouth go dry. He could still back out of it. He could pretend that he wanted to discuss a patient or something but then he'd never know what she might have said.

There was a soft knock on his door.

"Come in," he said, standing up behind his desk.

She appeared in the doorway looking lovely in a red top and black jeans. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders in thick waves. His heart started pounding.

"Am I in trouble, Mr Ellingham?" she asked with a small smile.

"God no…not at all," Martin walked around the side of his desk and came to stand a few feet from her. He was painfully aware that the last time they'd stood in front of each other in this very room, things had gotten a little out of control. He nervously clenched his hands at his sides and stared down at her, trying to gauge her mood. There was no easy way to do this, he thought, so he took a deep breath and blundered right in.

"Would you…umm…like to have dinner…with me?" His eyes were wide and he put his hand behind his back so she wouldn't see him fidgeting as he waited for her to speak.

The surprise on Kate's face gave way to a cautious expression as she stared back at him, her eyes narrowing. Martin recalled that the last time she'd narrowed her eyes like that she'd grabbed a handful of his shirt and kissed him senseless. But there was no hope of that happening again.

"Dinner?" she asked.

"Umm…yes." He gave a nervous cough.

"I see." She bit her bottom lip. "When?"

"Now?" He raised one eyebrow. "Umm…that's of course if it's convenient…umm…I mean…that's if you would like to go."

Her expression didn't alter and disappointment slammed Martin in the chest. He was about to turn away when she broke into a smile. "I would love to have dinner with you, Mr Ellingham."

He felt relieved and not a little nervous. He nodded. "Good" was all he could manage because his tongue felt like it was tied in knots. He walked to the door to hold it open for her.

"Just one thing," she said.

He turned. "Yes?"

"I am not exactly dressed to go anywhere fancy," she held her arms wide indicating her jeans and jersey top. She looked him over, her gaze travelling slowly down the length of his immaculate dark blue suit to his shiny shoes. "While you on the other hand always look like you're on your way to visit the Queen."

He looked taken aback. "Umm…not really. It's just a suit." He wanted to say that she'd look beautiful no matter what she wore but of course those words would never be uttered. "What you are wearing is just fine – the restaurant I have in mind is very relaxed."

"Well that's alright then," she bent to pick up her holdall and walked to the door. She felt a little shiver of anticipation as she walked past him. The evening suddenly seemed bright and she was very much looking forward to it.


	17. Chapter 17

_Toujours Paris_ was just as Martin said it would be – relaxed. It was a bistro-style restaurant with simple décor and an unhurried ambiance. It was busy but not too noisy. The manager came up as they entered, "Nice to see you again Mr Ellingham. I reserved your usual table." he said, looking at Kate with appreciation as he stood aside to let them through. Martin frowned at him and nodded.

Usual table, thought Kate. She wouldn't peg him for one to eat out often, but then she was beginning to realise that there was so much more to this man than the face he presented to the world.

They were shown to a table that overlooked a little park, which at that time of the evening was bathed in soft light from nearby street lamps. Martin held out her chair for her and once she was seated went to sit opposite her. The waiter took their drinks order - a small glass of red wine for her and bottled sparkling water with a slice of lemon for him.

Kate looked around the restaurant with its soft lighting – there were beautiful paintings and photographs of Paris on the walls and she recognised the soft strains of Françoise Hardy playing. "Well, this is nice. I have never heard of this place before."

"Yes…it is quite a find." He was looking at her. "I discovered it quite by accident soon after I came to St Mary's. The food is nutritious and the place hygienic."

She smiled. Nutritious and hygienic. She'd never heard anyone describe a restaurant quite like that – but then this was Martin Ellingham.

"I love Paris," she said pointing at the paintings. "It's my favourite city in the whole world."

He stared at her for a long moment with that openly frank and penetrating gaze and she didn't look away. An exquisite tension arced between them again. Both found themselves a little breathless. Then he said, "Your favourite city?"

"Yes – it has a certain magic for me - as if I am connected to it by invisible threads." She laughed softly. "I know that sounds daft but I can't really explain it."

He considered what she'd said but didn't know how to respond. Magic wasn't a concept he could easily grasp at the best of times and especially when applied to a city.

"Do you have one?" Kate asked

"One?" He raised his eyebrows.

"A favourite city...besides London if that's on your list."

"Umm – I've never really thought about it."

"Well, what springs to mind?"

He stared at her for a long time. She'd learned that he was thinking deeply when he did that. He just wasn't one to fill the silence with inane chatter.

"Amsterdam…Salzburg…" He raised his eyebrows again as if to say "is that enough?"

"Those are such beautiful cities." She smiled nostalgically. "I did the Sound of Music tour when I went to Salzburg the first time. It was such fun. I was twelve."

He looked puzzled.

"You know...Baron von Trapp and Maria…and the seven children?" She could see he was struggling to understand. "It's a film – a musical." She remembered Aunty Joan's words – about Martin the boy and suddenly it dawned on her that maybe he'd never had much opportunity to watch films as a child. If Aunty Joan was to be believed Martin had no fun at all when he was growing up. She smiled gently at him across the table.

Their drinks arrived and the waiter poured Martin's water then left them with menus. She raised her glass of wine to him. "Here's to a pleasant surprise, Mr Ellingham."

He paused as he raised his glass. "Umm…please call me Martin. When we're not…umm…working of course."

She smiled mischievously. "And I'm Kate…when we're not working of course." She saw the corners of his mouth twitch and felt a sense of achievement that she'd made him smile. Well almost.

"You're not into wine then?" Kate asked.

He shook his head. "No. Alcohol makes me fall asleep."

"So you never have a drink?"

"On the odd occasion…umm…I might have a little whisky…but I don't have it very often. It has a debilitating effect on the central nervous system."

Kate raised her eyebrows at that, then raised her glass and took a sip, "In large quantities I suppose it would but a little glass now and then relaxes one. And that's a good thing...isn't it?" His mouth twitched again.

The waiter came to take their meal order – pan-fried sole with a side salad for her and grilled sea bass for him with a side of seasonal vegetables. No butter.

They figuratively circled each other as they waited for their meals to arrive – each measuring up the other. It was a little game millions of couples played on their first date. They engaged in polite conversation, trying to find that common ground where the conversation would flow more easily. It wasn't very easy with Martin as, by nature, he was not one for small talk but she sensed that he was making an effort and that pleased her very much.

Martin still seemed a little tense as he fidgeted with his cutlery but he listened intently as she talked. She mentioned that she'd recently read a biography on Herbert von Karajan. He looked up; interest sparking in his eyes. He loved classical music too and admired von Karajan's work. They agreed though that neither of them could embrace the music of Wagner for which von Karajan was renowned. It was much too heavy and required such a huge investment of one's time.

"My mother is also a great lover of classical music, although I have heard her happily singing along to music from the 60s too." Kate smiled.

"Do your parents live in Portwenn?" he asked.

"My mother does, yes. She loves it there." She looked thoughtful as she twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. The soft light played on her hair, reflecting burnished highlights in the deep chestnut colour. Martin remembered how it had felt under his fingers when he had held her so close. He was jolted from his thoughts when she said, "My parents intended the house in Portwenn to be a second home, for holidays and such, but they loved it so much that they decided to live there permanently. They are…were…both creative, literary souls and they loved the solitude I suppose."

"Literary?" he raised that eyebrow of his. She loved it when he did that.

"Yes…my father was a Professor of English Literature. He later became a private tutor - with modern technology these days he could tutor via Skype from Portwenn. He had students at all the major universities. He loved it – but he loved the solitude of Portwenn more than campus life. They tried it for a while – at Cambridge but it only lasted two years and they decided to return to Cornwall."

"Is he retired now?"

"He died four years ago – in a cycling accident." She looked down. "Some motorists are not careful enough on those narrow Cornish lanes."

Martin looked at her – his gaze was unwavering as if he could see right into her mind. He didn't speak but she sensed that he understood her sadness. She looked away first.

"My mother is an author – you probably wouldn't have heard of her…she writes historical romance novels under the pen-name Catherine Penhallow – and very successfully too." Kate laughed. "It takes a bit of getting used to having a mother who is mobbed for autographs in public places."

He looked interested. After a pause he said, "Portwenn is the ideal place for a writer I would think." His gaze was disconcerting, especially when he didn't speak for long stretches as if he was trying to put his thoughts into words. "It's a place in which one could feel apart but at the same time connected to the community." That was quite a mouthful for Martin and Kate was impressed by his observation. It was exactly how she felt about her village.

"Yes Portwenn is a special place. My mother has written quite extensively about it. She has published a number of non-fiction books under her own name – Evelyn Rushton. One of them being the history of Portwenn and the surrounding area. She loves history and of course the romantic in her couldn't resist the legend of King Arthur and his connection to Tintagel. So she's explored that in a book too."

Martin surprised her when he said, "I've read her book on Portwenn. It is well written and I enjoyed it."

Kate looked at him pensively. "I find it strange actually that we have lived such parallel lives – both of us spending time in Portwenn and at Havenhurst and my mother knowing Joan for more than thirty years, yet we never met – or I don't think we did. We would have been very young."

He looked down at his hands where the lay on the table. "Yes…my father stopped me going down to Portwenn when I was eleven years old."

"Oh…that's sad. Did they take you elsewhere for holidays?"

"Umm…no. I usually spent summers at boarding school in Berkshire. My father thought it would improve my academic results. Not that I needed to. I was already the top pupil at the school." He said it without any conceit - it was just a fact.

Kate was shocked. "Oh Martin…that must have been awful."

"It wasn't so bad." He gave a slight shrug. "I did nothing but read and study - and I enjoyed doing both. And there were always one or two other boys who occasionally stayed behind."

He did nothing but read and study, she thought sadly. And feel lonely and abandoned and unloved. Kate's heart broke for Martin the boy.

Their meals arrived and it was tasty and well presented and every bit as nutritious as Martin had said it would be. They didn't talk much during the meal but Martin surprised Kate by talking about the way the food was cooked and what herbs and spices he could identify. He liked cooking it seemed. Something she would never have associated with him.

Martin watched her whenever he could without being observed. Her high cheek bones were accentuated in the dim light and her lips looked soft and inviting. And he loved the way her face lit up when she talked about something that interested her. And lots of things interested her.

And Kate peeped at him from under her lashes from time to time. In the soft light his face looked chiseled, his strong brows a little more relaxed than usual. He was the most distinguished looking and the most elegantly dressed man in the restaurant. She felt her breath quicken.

Eventually Kate put down her knife and fork. "That was absolutely delicious Martin. I love this place."

"Yes it doesn't disappoint." He called the waiter. "Would you care for some coffee or dessert?" Normally he wouldn't have coffee at this time of the evening but it was one way of prolonging the meal.

"I couldn't eat another thing but coffee sounds like a good idea, thank you."

When the waiter left she brought up the subject of Aunty Joan again.

"Martin I went to visit Aunty Joan when I was in Portwenn over Christmas. She sends her love. She misses you."

His face clouded over. "Yes…I haven't been down for a long time now." He paused, "I do call her from time to time though."

"She's so proud of you. It's like you're her son. She couldn't stop talking about you." Kate got that mischievous look on her face again. "And she was very intrigued to hear that I have seen you naked but for a towel around your waist."

She could swear that he blushed and he looked down quickly.

The waiter returned with their coffee.

"You should really try and go down to Portwenn sometime and see her - recharge your batteries a bit."

He considered that for a moment. "Yes…maybe I should clear some time on my calendar."

"Easter's coming up soon," Kate said, "I might go down myself for a few days around that time."

Their eyes met. It sounded like an invitation. Kate looked away first, a slight flush tinging her cheeks.

Their meal had come to an end and Martin asked the manager to call for a taxi. He helped Kate into her coat and let his hands fall lightly on her shoulders as he helped her straighten it. Touching her set his heart racing again. He was mesmerised as she raised her arms to free her hair from where it was caught under the collar of her coat. She spread it out so that it fell over her shoulders. Once again he had the urge to run his fingers through it.

When the taxi arrived he gave the driver her address. She was surprised that he remembered. Jen was right – nothing escaped his notice. They didn't talk much on the way but she didn't mind the silence and took the opportunity to glance at him as he stared out the window. He wasn't handsome in the classical sense but he was so attractive with his greying hair and his full, firm lips and sombre countenance. She looked at his mouth and remembered how he had driven her crazy with his kisses.

He turned suddenly and caught her staring at him. She smiled, "I had a nice time this evening Martin. Thank you."

"You're welcome." After a moment he said softly, "Perhaps we can do it again sometime?"

"I'd like that very much."

The taxi drew up and Martin got out with her and walked her to the door of her block. She unlocked it then turned to him as he stood looking down at her with those piercing eyes.

"Goodnight Martin," she said and stood on tip toe to kiss his cheek.

Martin felt her soft lips against his skin and more than anything he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her long and hard but she was already inside and slowly closing the door. His heart felt light and he almost had a spring in his step as he walked back to the taxi.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

When they saw each other again at the hospital they both followed the rule of keeping their interaction professional. Although they made brief eye contact, she addressed him as Mr Ellingham and he was his usual taciturn self and grunted at her.

The following week she worked with him again and this time, when they were alone in the scrub room for a moment, he asked softly if she would like to go to dinner again. Yes she would love to. Same place? Six o'clock?

So they went to the same little Parisian restaurant and spent a few hours together talking about travel and books and music. She found out that he loved antique clocks and that he repaired them in his spare time, which he was sad to say was becoming less and less. He found out that she was very well read and well-travelled and that they'd liked similar experiences in some countries and cities. They liked the same classical music - he wasn't so good with the modern music that Kate also liked but there were some songs he liked too. Kate was encouraged at how he opened up. He still wasn't talkative by a long shot but at least she didn't have to drag things out of him.

On the way home in the taxi she put out her hand and touched his arm. He looked at her, his eyes hooded. "Thank you Martin." He nodded, not taking his eyes off her.

The taxi soon reached her flat and he got out with her and walked her to the lobby door. They turned towards each other and in the dim light of the street lamp they searched each other's faces and the tension flared brightly between them. It enveloped them - cacooning them in a blanket of sweet anticipation. He slowly put out his hand and gently touched her cheek, letting his fingers slide down along her jaw-line until they came to rest under her chin and he tilted her face up. Kate's heart almost stopped and she took a small step closer. It was all he needed. He slowly lowered his head and his mouth found hers in the gentlest of kisses. Apart from his hand on her chin it was the only part of their bodies that touched but Kate felt like she was falling into him. Sliding away. His lips grazed hers, tasting her sweetness, pulling at her lower lip and gliding softly back until he covered her mouth again. His kiss ignited a fire that melted her deep within. Too soon he lifted his head and his eyes were dark as he stared down at her. His expression was soft and his voice deep as he said, "Goodnight Kate."

"Goodnight Martin," she breathed - her voice was shaky and her legs felt weak as she unlocked the door and turned to watch him stride away towards the waiting taxi. Her heart was brimming...and it felt so good.


	18. Chapter 18

The next day Kate saw Jen in the corridor outside the nurses' lounge.

"Oh Hi Jen. Haven't seen you in a while. Everything alright?"

"Yes fine thanks."

Kate could tell that there was something she was bursting to ask. She raised her eyebrows.

"So is it true?" Jen asked in a hushed tone.

"Is what true?"

"That you went out to dinner with Ellingham."

Kate was gobsmacked. This damn hospital was like a bush telegraph. "That's none of anyone's business, Jen." She pushed the door open to the lounge and Jen followed her in.

"So it _is_ true then?"

Kate rounded on her. "So if I said yes, how quickly will it become the topic of discussion and ridicule down at the pub over drinks…mmm?" Her eyes flashed.

Jen looked taken aback. "Oh…it's like that is it?"

Kate didn't answer but went and poured a glass of water from the water cooler.

Jen folded her arms as she looked at Kate. "Well I don't know what this man's got but it must be pretty powerful stuff to make women fall at his feet like this. I'd better take a closer look at him." She smiled and shook her head. "I won't tell anyone Kate but just so you know - Linda saw the two of you leaving a restaurant together last night so it _will_ be all over the hospital grapevine by now. You can count on it."

Kate's heart plummeted. Martin was such a private man and they had gone out of their way to be discreet. He wouldn't be very pleased when he found out everyone was gossiping about them. She sighed. She so enjoyed his company and her feelings for him had deepened. She didn't fully understand them herself but whatever was going on felt good. This was the last thing she needed right now.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate had seen Martin only twice after their last dinner together and they hadn't had the opportunity to talk. He had been booked up with consultations and procedures and he had been due to leave for Oxford where he was conducting a series of workshops and lectures. He'd looked tired. The man just never stopped.

After they'd completed their second procedure together before he left for Oxford, she'd been in her office next to the theatres when he'd come in, standing just inside the doorway. For a moment he just stood looking at her and she smiled encouragingly at him.

"I'm going up to Oxford tomorrow…for the rest of the week," he said quietly.

She nodded.

He looked shy and he hesitated before he said, "Perhaps…umm…when I'm back we could…umm…do something…?"

Her heart melted. She knew how hard this was for him. "Yes…I look forward to that." He looked relieved – pleased.

"Martin…it will have to be the week after…I'm going down to Portwenn for Easter and the following week…to spend some time with my Mum."

He looked disappointed. "Yes…yes of course." His eyes looked so deeply into hers and she knew he wanted to say more but just then Linda came in. She glanced from one to the other – a slight smirk on her face.

Martin looked frustrated and a deep scowl descended on his face – he'd wanted to be alone with Kate for just a little longer. They looked at each other across the office - their eyes saying what their mouths couldn't. Goodbye. And then he turned and left.

Kate busied herself with her rosters. She could feel Linda's eyes on her - she was obviously dying to gossip. Eventually she heard her say, "So I hear you went to dinner with his Lordship - how was it? I bet you'll be wanting to get as far away from him as possible after your encounter – miserable sod."

Kate tried to ignore her. Responding in any way would just make things worse.

"So did he bore you to tears? I can't see him being the life of the party - if it were me I'd have enjoyed my meal then told him to sod off after."

Kate's blood began to simmer.

"If you ask me…you'd be better off with someone who's got a bit more backbone…if you know what I mean. A real man…" Linda chuckled in a suggestive way.

Kate spun round to face her. "I didn't ask you for your opinion Linda…and actually Mr Ellingham is utterly charming…and he has more backbone than most men I know. He also has more manners than some people I know. Now I'll thank you to mind your own business."

Kate was fuming. She knew she shouldn't have retaliated but it riled her that people like Linda were the ones who contributed to Martin's constant need to defend himself and barricade himself behind his protective walls.

For a moment Linda was speechless. It took her a few seconds before she could say, "Well well… takes all kinds, doesn't it?"

Yes, thought Kate. It takes all kinds.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate packed the last few things into her suitcase and zipped the top closed. She was catching the morning training from Paddington to Cornwall and she was looking forward to seeing her mother and spending some time away from London and the hospital. But not away from Martin. She would miss him.

She boarded the train and spent the four hours trying to read but her mind kept drifting to him. She thought they had been getting on just fine at their last dinner together. They'd chatted more freely and she even saw him smile – or what passed as a smile for him and his kiss had been so tender and…just so beautiful. She wanted more than ever to be with him, to be in his company but also in his arms. She'd been fascinated by his quiet intensity – the way he considered every word that was said and the way his eyes drank in everything – she could almost drown in them. After their precipitous encounter in his consulting room they'd both gone back to a place where they could start again – it was a fragile place from which they set out tentatively - to find their way on an unfamiliar but compelling path. Where it would lead only time would tell.

Aunty Joan's summary of Martin's upbringing came back to her more and more. How could someone endure something like that and still come out of it as a person of integrity? Martin was so forthright – to the point of rudeness but you couldn't accuse him of being duplicitous or ambiguous. And then he was so gentle and passionate too – so very passionate. But he was also very guarded. And it made his tentative steps towards her all the more endearing – she now knew just how much courage it took for him to even speak to her – not as a colleague but as a woman. He had no trouble articulating his opinions to colleagues, whether they liked to hear them or not. But on a personal level Martin was almost paralysed with shyness and a lack of confidence. It was bizarre to observe these two polar opposites in a man. It just made Kate more determined to get to know him - and to let him find his way towards her - at his own pace. He'd surprised her with his invitations to dinner and his boldness when he'd kissed her goodbye the last time. It made Kate want to take him in her arms and just love him. Beneath it all she knew there was a man with the capacity to love someone deeply and she hoped with all her heart that that someone would be her.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Her mother met her at Bodmin Parkway station and could immediately tell that something was on her daughter's mind. She seemed distracted but Evelyn didn't probe. She knew her daughter well enough and it was best to let her bring up the subject on her own. Whether she would or not was another matter.

Over supper that evening they chatted and Kate told her mother more about her work and what was happening on that front. She'd been on some compulsory refresher courses and she'd enjoyed them. Her flat was starting to feel more like home and she'd been to a concert at the Royal Albert which was just a stone's throw from the hospital.

Evelyn as always was very interested in everything Kate told her and so was Kate to hear her mother's news. She'd signed another contract with her publishers and would be producing two books over the next five years. It didn't sound a lot but Kate knew that her mother spent an inordinate amount of time doing research for her novels - travelling to the places where she set them and researching the history. Fortunately most of her novels were set in Britain but she'd been tossing about the idea of setting one during the turbulent slave trade era and would possibly visit West Africa, South Africa and the Caribbean to get a sense of the places, the climate and what she called the essence or energy of the settings.

Kate looked at her mother and was once again awed by her talent. Her success had not changed her at all; it only amplified who she already was. And while at heart all her books were romances, they were by no means trashy, superficial pieces. Most were historical novels and her research was meticulous. Every place and piece of background information was accurate to the letter. Luckily for her she could now afford to employ a full time researcher to help her with the time consuming part of the research like visiting archives and libraries but she still had to read through all the primary source documents and try to make sense of the context in which events took place.

They'd often discussed the dilemmas of writing historical fiction. Her mother's mantra was the opening line of L P Hartley's novel the Go Between: "the past is a foreign country: they do things differently there." Her characters lived within the context of their time and she didn't make the mistake of judging their actions or attitudes from a modern point of view. The characters didn't have the luxury of seeing their time holistically – how could they when they were living in the moment, unable to see the ultimate consequences of what was taking place. Her mother equated it to standing too close to a tapestry. One can see all the individual stitches but it is only when one steps back that one can see the whole picture. And it was this ability to see the little stitches that made her mother's understanding of history and its translation into stories so realistic and which ultimately made her so successful as a writer.

When they retired to the lounge with their tea, they fell into a companionable silence. Eventually Kate said, "You'll be pleased to know that I was wrong about Martin Ellingham."

Evelyn looked puzzled.

"About him not being sociable. Well he isn't actually one for socialising but he did invite me to have dinner with him. Twice."

Her mother smiled. So that's what was on Kate's mind. "Oh…how was it? Did you enjoy it?"

Kate looked pensive. "Yes…yes I did. In the beginning it was a bit awkward because he's not much of a talker. As I said he's very closed off. Shy almost."

She didn't mention the episode in his consulting room. She didn't know how she would explain it even if she wanted to. It had left her with powerful emotions buzzing around and she couldn't speak about it yet.

Evelyn didn't say anything hoping Kate would carry on.

"He's a bit of an enigma if I'm honest. He appears not to be participating in conversation but he retains every word you've said and then suddenly comes out with something so profound it knocks you sideways." Kate sipped her tea. "He's read your book on Portwenn by the way - said he enjoyed it very much."

"So he likes history then?"

"He seems to, yes. And art and music." She paused then said almost wistfully, "He's away at the moment – at Oxford giving a series of lectures."

Oxford no less, thought Evelyn. She could see that Kate's emotions were confused. She wondered about this man and the attraction her daughter seemed to have for him. Knowing Kate, there must be some depth to him. She couldn't see her being attracted to just anybody. The usual things that many women considered important didn't seem to make the slightest difference to Kate: good looks, status, money – none of that made any impression on her. The men she had gone out with over the years had all been ones she felt comfortable with intellectually – but what about the rest? What about the emotional and physical side – would Kate ever find that perfect match the way she had with her Edward?

She just hoped that Ellingham's intentions with her were more than just a dalliance. These surgeons had a reputation for being magnets to women and they often took advantage of it. Evelyn frowned. She would love to meet this man to gauge him for herself.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thank you to everyone for all the reviews and PMs - they are all very much appreciated. And I am thrilled that so many of you are enjoying the story and are taking the time to read and comment - so thanks once again.**


	19. Chapter 19

Kate woke to the sound of gulls calling, a sound she missed when she was in London. She looked out of her bedroom window and saw it was a glorious day and decided she'd go for a walk once she was showered and dressed.

Down in the kitchen her mother had made a pot of coffee and Kate fetched her mug from the cupboard. She was just about to pour for herself when there was a knock at the front door. A bit early for visitors she thought. It was only just after nine o'clock

Her mother put her mug down. "I'll get it - you pour your coffee."

She went down the passage and opened the front door. A tall, distinguished and impeccably dressed man stood there. He had the most piercing grey eyes.

"Good morning. I'm looking for Kate."

Evelyn looked at his austere countenance and unwavering gaze and she knew without a doubt that this was Martin Ellingham. She had expected he would be imposing, because Kate had said he was, but she hadn't expected the full impact of the man; the way his eyes seemed to look right into hers and the undercurrent of impatience that radiated from him.

She smiled at him. "Please come in. Kate's in the kitchen if you don't mind joining us there." He bent his head to enter.

"I'm Evelyn, Kate's mother," she said holding out her hand. He shook it, "Martin Ellingham…umm…a colleague of Kate's." He dipped his chin and gave a little cough and Evelyn smiled inwardly at his sudden awkwardness.

"Come through." She said, cautioning him not to bump his head on the low beams. "Catherine darling, there's someone to see you," she said as they entered the kitchen. He was so tall he seemed to dwarf the space.

Kate turned then froze when she saw him. "Martin!" Her voice was breathless with surprise and then her face lit up. "I didn't think in a million years you would find the time to visit your Aunt. She must be so pleased."

"Yes." He said staring at her, his eyes wide and a bit unsure.

Kate stared back and the air seemed to spark between them. After a moment she said, "Umm…would you like some coffee? We've just made."

"Thank you."

Evelyn watched this little interaction with great interest as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table, indicating that Martin should do so too. He sat ramrod straight, not once taking his eyes off of Kate as she got another mug down and prepared to pour his coffee. He openly followed her every move with his intense gaze.

So that's how things are, thought Evelyn. Martin Ellingham was half way to being in love with her daughter if he wasn't already in over his head. She had no doubt about it. You couldn't look at someone like that and not be – it was almost as if he was terrified she would suddenly disappear from in front of his eyes. But did Kate know? She looked from one to the other over the rim of her mug. Sometimes those closest to the fire didn't always notice the heat.

Kate put the coffee down in front of him and he thanked her. Evelyn noticed that Kate's hand wasn't quite steady as she put the milk jug and sugar on the table in case he wanted either.

"How is Aunty Joan?" Kate sat down with her own mug. "I haven't had a chance to go up and see her yet."

"She is in good health…umm…yes...she's fine."

Evelyn thought he had a lovely voice, it was pitched low and had a velvety quality to it; his speech was cultured and his demeanour urbane. The writer in her came out again. She wondered how she would describe him in one of her books. He was not handsome in the classical sense but he was certainly an attractive man - tall, with a proud bearing. He had lovely soft looking grey hair and penetrating but expressive grey eyes. At the moment those eyes were looking at her daughter with a hint of uncertainty in them. His brow had a permanent crease in the middle, no doubt from the stern frown he habitually wore. He had full, firm lips which she imagined could be quite sensual if he allowed himself to be. His dignified carriage made him look almost aristocratic – a man with gravitas. Yes, she could clearly see why Kate found him attractive.

Evelyn excused herself, "I have to answer a few emails and go over some notes from my editor. He'll want my corrections by the end of the weekend - Easter or not." Martin stood up and helped pull her chair back as she got up. A gentleman too, Evelyn thought. Well well…in this day and age that was a bonus, she thought as she left the kitchen.

Martin sat down again opposite Kate and took a sip of his coffee.

"When did you arrive in Portwenn," she asked.

"Last night."

"How was Oxford?"

"Fine." He fiddled with his mug. "I left a day early."

They stared at each other for a long moment - neither wanting to look away.

"And now you're here," she said softly.

His eyes looked anxious as if he expected her to find that ridiculous. "Yes."

She smiled into his eyes and he felt a little encouraged.

Kate finished her coffee and set the mug down. "I was about to go for a walk up the cliff path. Would you like to come with me? It's not too cold and there's no wind."

He stood up. "Yes…umm…let's go" No messing about with Martin.

They left via the kitchen door and were soon on their way up Roscarrock Hill which joined the cliff path at the top. The view from up there was spectacular. The tide was out and the little boats in the harbour below looked like wrecks as the lay at odd angles on the exposed sand. Gulls wheeled and called to each other in the fresh sea air. The ocean was flat and blue which contrasted with the brilliant green of the grass on top of the cliffs. They walked in silence for quite some time, hardly meeting another soul along the way. Eventually they came to a bench at a look-out point.

"Do you want to sit for a while?" she asked. He nodded.

They sat side by side, not touching, not looking at each other, just gazing out to sea. Kate was intensely aware of him, of his thigh so close to hers. She felt a strong flow of electricity between them.

"I've missed seeing you." She said quietly.

He turned to look at her. "Have you?"

"Yes...I'm glad you came."

His eyes searched her face. He seemed to want to say something but swallowed hard instead. A little breeze tugged at a curl of her hair and involuntarily he put out his hand to brush it from her cheek. The touch of his fingers against her skin triggered something in Kate and before she could stop herself she leaned forward and gently put her lips to his. She felt him become very still and her heart sank. He was embarrassed. She began to pull away but he leaned in, not taking his lips from hers and she felt his fingers slowly thread their way through her hair to cup the back of her neck and he gently pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. A flame streaked through her, instantly igniting the passion that always smouldered when he was near. Her lips parted under his and his mouth explored hers, softly grazing her bottom lip, gliding over it, teasing her and making her long for more. He pulled back to look at her, studying her face, his eyes lingering on her mouth. She felt his thumb caressing the soft skin at the base of her neck and his other hand came up to cup her jaw.

This time when he lowered his mouth to hers his kiss was demanding and hungry and she responded with the same intensity. She felt his tongue lightly grazing her bottom lip, testing her reaction, seeking permission for more. And she gave it. From there it was as if their senses exploded. Their kiss became almost frantic, scorching with passion, even more than it had that day in his consulting room. Within seconds they went from tentative exploring to desperate need and once again Kate knew that she wanted to be with this man more than anything in the world. Their breath came heavy and fast and Martin groaned against her mouth as he felt her hand slide under his jacket over his belly and around his waist. Neither wanted the kiss to end. But eventually they had to come up for air. His eyes were dark. Hers looked dazed and she put up her hand to tenderly stroke his face. He turned his mouth into her palm and for a moment let it linger there.

Eventually he took her hand in his and turned away to look out over the sea, not trusting himself to continue as they had been doing. Their hands, now firmly entwined, felt like a conduit for every sensation in their bodies. Kate leaned against his shoulder. She wanted to sit with him like this forever, in this exquisite silence filled with immense longing and so many unspoken words. She sensed that Martin wanted to speak but that once again he was trapped within the walls of his shyness. She put her other hand on his arm and when he looked at her, she smiled at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. He turned his head and gently touched his lips to hers before sitting back again. And Kate thought sometimes he spoke more with his actions than words could ever say.

After a while he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. "I promised Aunty Joan I would take her to lunch."

She nodded and they stood up and it was the most natural thing in the world that she turned and slipped her arms around his waist and put her head on his shoulder. His arms went around her, holding her gently, his hand stroking her hair. She could hear his heart beating and felt his chin resting on top of her head. Kate knew in that moment that if she'd had any doubts before they were all gone now. She loved this man with all her heart and soul and she wanted to be with him forever. She closed her eyes and prayed that somehow he would grow to love her too. For now though, standing in his arms was enough. She remembered Lara Perkins and her biggest fear now was that Martin would withdraw if he sensed that she was becoming serious about him. He was a complex man and she didn't want to make the mistake of assuming that his intentions with her were serious. How could he not know how she felt though? She couldn't hide the tenderness she felt for him or the passion that welled up in her every time he touched her. She was putty in his hands. He put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up. His eyes roamed over her face as if he was memorising every inch of it. Then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her so slowly and so gently that her legs went weak and she leaned into him and held him close.

When they broke the kiss, she stood in the circle of his arms and looked up at him. "Mmm…that was nice," she murmured.

He looked puzzled and Kate gave him another gentle peck on the lips. "The way you kiss me…it's _very_ nice...more than nice."

He grunted. And his eyes travelled to her lips again. He lowered his head and kissed her again – teasing her lips gently.

Kate pulled back. "Your Aunt won't get any lunch if you continue doing that Mr Ellingham." His mouth twitched. They began a slow walk back and for part of the way they held hands but as they approached the top of Roscarrock Hill and they saw people approaching they separated. Martin was clearly not comfortable with public displays of affection and she didn't question it. She let him set his own pace. They walked the rest of the way in a close, warm silence – a silence laden with a million questions and even more emotions.

When they reached the house, he stood looking down at her for a long moment, his eyes soft and searching. "May I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

She breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't dared to hope. "Yes," she said and smiled into his eyes. "Why don't you come to lunch – bring Aunty Joan with. I am sure she and Mum would love to catch up." She looked up at the hill, "and we can go for a walk again…if the weather holds."

His expression didn't change as he gazed at her. But eventually he nodded.

"Twelve thirty?" she said.

"Yes." Then he turned and walked down to where he'd parked his car and disappeared from view.

Kate entered the kitchen. She sank down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table unable to deal with all the emotions coursing through her. She just stared into space in a daze. Martin's kisses had once again ignited an intense passion in her and when the fire ebbed away it left a fragile tenderness that melted her insides. She couldn't think straight. This is how her mother found her ten minutes later when she came in search of a cup of tea.

"Everything alright? Has Martin left?"

There was no answer and she turned to look at Kate. She was lost in thought, her face soft and her eyes deep and full of emotion. Evelyn knew without a doubt that Kate had finally just acknowledged that she was in love with Martin Ellingham.

She sat down across from her and took her hand from where it rested on the table. "My darling Kate, it's the most wonderful feeling in the world, isn't it?"

Kate smiled. "Yes." But then her face clouded over. "I don't really know how he feels though."

"I do."

Kate looked up.

"I saw it on his face the minute he came into the kitchen this morning and saw you. I assure you that he is more than half way in love with you already. He can't take his eyes off of you."

Kate closed her eyes and for the first time allowed herself to hope.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin leaned against the kitchen counter watching Kate as she prepared coffee for everyone. He loved the way she moved, the way her hair fell onto her shoulders and the way she looked up at him and smiled from time to time. At lunch she had been unusually quiet, leaving all the chatter to her mother and Aunty Joan. He'd been relieved when she'd asked him to help her clear the table.

Joan had been on the point of getting up to help when Evelyn touched her arm and shook her head. Joan had looked confused. Evelyn looked pointedly at Kate and Martin as they left the room and suddenly Joan's eyes widened. She looked pleasantly shocked. "Are they…?" She looked towards the kitchen. Evelyn nodded, "I would bet my next book's earnings on it."

Joan chuckled. "I wondered why my nephew suddenly wanted to come and visit. It couldn't only be his sudden longing for my roast beef and potatoes that got him down so unexpectedly...now it makes a lot of sense."

"Small world isn't it, Joan? What are the chances that Kate and Martin would meet _and_ work together and then develop this attraction for one another. He's besotted with her."

When Kate brought the coffee through with Martin behind her carrying a tray with the cups, Joan watched them with great interest. Martin sat down at his place at the table but his eyes were on Kate as she poured the coffee. When she finally sat down, he tried to look interested in what Evelyn was saying but his eyes kept sliding to his right where Kate sat, his hand restlessly fiddling with his napkin on the table cloth.

Eventually Evelyn said the two of them should take advantage of the good weather and go for a walk while she and Joan went on a tour of the garden and had a gossip.

So they walked up Roscarrock Hill and onto the cliff path again. A little breeze ruffled the grass and tugged at their clothes and hair. Martin couldn't take his eyes off Kate. She had her hands in her jacket pockets and her collar turned up against the cool breeze. She turned to look up at him, her eyes smiling into his.

As they neared the look-out point he looked around to see if they were alone before he stopped. He looked down at her and seemed to hesitate. Kate went to him and slipped her arms under his jacket and around his waist and pulled him close. He cupped her face between his hands and gently kissed her lips. They clung together, their bodies moulded to one another. His mouth trailed over her jaw and down her neck and she sighed at the sensation it sent coursing through her. She whispered his name and he lifted his head to look down at her. Then he kissed her again, this time hungrily, his hands sliding down her back to rest on her hips. He pulled her close. She wanted him so much that it ached deep inside - she could hardly breathe. She trailed her mouth gently along his jaw to the base of his throat where a pulse beat strongly and his arms tightened around her as he sought her mouth again.

Finally they broke off and he took her hand and they continued walking a little way in silence. After a while he stopped again and turned to look at her.

"Kate. I'm going to a conference in a few days."

She waited for him to continue, watching him as he seemed to struggle with words.

"There's this dinner...umm…on Friday night." He stopped and looked deep into her eyes as he usually did when he was thinking. Then he took a deep breath. "Umm…will you go with me?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, overjoyed at his invitation. To Martin though, it looked as if she was caught in a dilemma and didn't know how to refuse him.

"I understand." His voice sounded disappointed. He let go of her hand and began to turn away but she touched his arm. "Oh Martin…I would love to go with you." She smiled up at him and saw the relief on his face. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The dinner."

"Oh…umm…yes…now I hope this isn't a problem for you…" He dropped his chin and looked at her from under his brows. "It's in Paris." His eyes were round and his nervousness made him swallow hard.

Kate's eyes went wide then she squealed and launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and he battled to keep his footing as his arms went around her waist to support her. His startled look vanished as he smiled into her neck.

"Paris," she sighed dreamily and her eyes were full of laughter. "My favourite city in the whole world." She kissed him soundly on the lips. "I would love to go with you…" and kissed him again … "to your dinner," and again, "in Paris."

His mouth lifted at the corners and his eyes lit up. "Good," he said and set her down. He took her hand again as they continued their walk. Kate's heart felt light as if it could float away.

"It's a formal dinner. Is that alright with you?"

She nodded. Already thinking of what she was going to wear.

"I have to attend the whole conference," he said, scowling. "So I will be there from Wednesday, but if you fly in on Friday morning it will give you plenty of time to settle in." He looked at her. "Will that be suitable? You could come earlier if you want to. But I will be tied up most of the time." He scowled. "I've had every second of my time mapped out for me by the conference organisers."

"Yes Martin that will be suitable."

"Good. I'll email you the details of your air-ticket when I get back to London. You can check in on line."

"Martin. You don't have to buy my ticket. I can do that myself."

"I know you can. But I insist."

"But…I want to…"

He firmly cut her short. "No Kate. I invited you and I don't expect you to have to pay your way to get there." His face was set, "Or for the accommodation." She was just about to speak again when she saw his eyebrows pull together and a stern look settled on his face. Kate could tell she wasn't going to win this one.

She turned into his arms again and rested her head on his shoulder, overwhelmed by the feeling of belonging that crept over her as he stroked her hair. This tender and unpredictable man had managed to wind her around his little finger without even knowing it and she willingly let him.

When they got back to the house, Martin stayed for more coffee and then took his aunt home. He was taking the overnight train to London and she wouldn't see him again until Paris. She smiled at the thought. And her mother noticed her smile as they came back into the kitchen after seeing Martin and Joan off.

"Did you have a nice walk." She asked innocently, turning away to put her cup in the sink so that Kate couldn't see the little smile on her own face. She had noticed the way that Martin had looked at Kate as he'd said goodbye. His face had been almost impassive but his eyes had spoken a thousand words. The man couldn't bear to let Kate out of his sight.

"Oh Mum…" Kate sank down onto a kitchen chair. "He…he's…just so…" she sighed.

Evelyn turned around and smiled at her daughter. "Left you speechless, has he?"

Kate laughed softly. "You could say that." And a faint blush crept up her cheeks. "He's so very different to the severe front he shows the world."

Evelyn waited for Kate to say more and watched the emotions racing across her features.

"He's gentle and so passionate." She looked up at her mother and her face lit up. "He's asked me to go to a dinner with him on Friday…in Paris."

Paris! Evelyn was impressed at Martin's boldness. "Oh – so not so shy then – I must have been mistaken," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh he was very shy but he managed to spit it out in the end. He's attending a conference and there's a formal dinner on Friday evening and he asked me to go with him."

Evelyn was happy for Kate and she hoped that Martin knew just how lucky he was.


	20. Chapter 20

Martin sat on the train with his head resting against the back of his seat. It was dark and only occasional lights from nearby roads and villages broke the inky landscape as it flashed by. He'd been trying to read his BMJ, but for the last ten minutes he'd been reading the same paragraph over and over. His thoughts kept drifting to Kate; to her sweet kisses and the way that she had held him so close. She'd said she was pleased that he'd come to Portwenn. He was encouraged by that.

When he'd left Oxford a day early it had upset the organisers but his patience had grown thin with all the socialising he'd been expected to do. He had fulfilled his obligation to present his lectures. He didn't consider cocktail parties to be part of that obligation. What utter rubbish. He frowned just thinking about it. On a whim he'd phoned Aunty Joan and asked if he could come down and stay with her for two nights. She'd been ecstatic. He'd felt a twinge of guilt that he'd had an ulterior motive in doing so but he didn't want to stay in the village. He'd never have any privacy and the last thing he wanted was to have to talk to anyone. Aunty Joan was an exception. She understood if he didn't talk.

And with Kate it was somehow different. She seemed to be able to pull him from his solitary fortress. When it came to her he did things he would never normally do and it surprised him every time. He'd travelled all the way down to Cornwall in the hope of just seeing her – of just catching a glimpse of her. Now if that wasn't impulsive he didn't know what would be. There had been no guarantee that she would be available or even that she'd be willing to see him but the need to see her had been so strong. And he hadn't been disappointed. In fact he was still reeling from her kisses and the way she'd made him feel. She'd even agreed to accompany him to the dinner. He'd struck it lucky and he would savour every moment because, as surely as the sun came up each day, she was bound to eventually discover the true Martin and then whatever might be developing between them would be over. She would find out he was a fraud – that he was in fact, exactly what others had already discovered about him – unlovable, disagreeable, cold and uninteresting - a man to be avoided. And then the rejection and ridicule would follow. He sighed. Please God that it wouldn't happen soon. He couldn't bear it.

He closed his eyes and thought of her. Of her soft lips and her beautiful eyes - the way she smiled at him. Kate embodied everything he'd ever dreamed of in a woman. Contrary to what everyone might think, he did have hopes and dreams, just like anybody else – but no-one would ever get to know about them. Maybe not even Kate. To him she was perfect. She was soft and feminine but was not afraid to stand her ground when she felt the need to. She was strong, had integrity, she was interesting, intelligent and she was so very beautiful. Unlike him she was also affectionate and unafraid to show it or give voice to her feelings. When he thought of her a tide of love washed through him. At times that love made him bold and at others it crippled him with feelings of inadequacy. But it didn't matter – loving Kate made him feel more alive than he'd ever felt before.

He'd always thought he was incapable of being happy but he was happy that she was coming to Paris - happy that he would see her and spend a whole evening in her company and maybe the next day too. But at the same time he was nervous – what if she hated it, what if she was bored and wished she'd never come? Shut it, Ellingham. No good trying to forecast the future. She was coming to Paris and right now that's all that mattered.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate drove out to Havenhurst to spend some time with Aunty Joan before she left Portwenn. If she was honest she really wanted to talk to her about Martin. She wanted to know more about him. What he was like as a boy and what his relationship was with his parents. His comments at their first dinner together hadn't held any warmth when he spoke about his father. In fact she got the impression that he would rather not speak about his parents at all.

She sensed that Martin was emotionally much deeper than he gave out but that he was afraid of commitment - afraid to to show his feelings. Why? He seemed afraid of talking – about anything - always hesitant. How did this man who could kiss a woman so tenderly and passionately also be a man who was so closed off? She had to know because her love for him would do just about anything to see him happy.

When she eventually told Aunty Joan what she wanted to know she'd looked at Kate long and hard. "You might not think so Kate but Martin is an extremely sensitive man. What will you do with this information? Much as I love you, Martin is like a son to me and I wouldn't like to see him hurt."

Kate looked at her and said softly, "I would never hurt him Aunty Joan. I think I have fallen in love with him."

"Think?"

"No…no…I have fallen in love with him but I have only just realised how I feel. I'm not exactly sure where things are going with us though. All I know is that I sense that on a personal level he is emotionally vulnerable and I just want to try and understand him. He doesn't talk – and when he does he never talks about himself or his feelings."

"Oh Kate. I am so happy for you and especially for Martin. He needs someone like you. Someone who will be strong around him. He can be a difficult man so it won't be easy." She paused and took a sip of her tea. "I take it neither of you has declared their love yet?"

Kate shook her head. "It's early days yet Aunty Joan. And he is such an enigma - sometimes he's so shy it's painful to see but at others he's bold and he surprises me - like him coming down to Cornwall now. And he's invited me to go to Paris to attend a formal dinner with him at a conference he's attending. He's a man of surprises...but I want to understand him Aunty Joan. Why he sometimes seems to be like a little boy watching from the sidelines - too afraid to step forward."

Joan sighed and put her tea cup back on its saucer. "Martin had a terrible childhood Kate. Abominable. I've told you most of that already but I didn't elaborate on how his parents treated him. His father, my _dear_ brother, punished and belittled the boy at every turn - to 'make a man of him.' His mother was, and still is, a cold and selfish woman. She didn't show Martin one shred of affection. Neither of them did for that matter - wanted nothing to do with him. Handed over his care to a string of nannies, none of whom stayed very long. By the time Martin was six he'd already shut down the spontaneous and inquisitive side of his personality. His little hugs and the laughter stopped too."

She looked down at her hands as she thought back all those years. "I remember how my father had chuckled with pride when he told me how Martin had found his pocket watch and dismantled it because he was curious to see how it worked. And Christopher had thrashed the poor boy with his belt when he found him with it. My father intervened and allowed Martin to put the watch back together again on his own…and he did…in perfect working order. He was only five years old."

Kate felt tears pricking her eyes. How on God's earth do you thrash a five year old with a belt? How do you thrash _anyone_ with a belt?

"Martin grew up believing that being locked in a dark cupboard under the stairs or being beaten with a table tennis bat or a belt was normal and that he deserved the punishment because he was bad." Joan's expression became grim. "His exceptional intelligence was the one thing that pulled him through his childhood and adolescence. He immersed himself in his studies. He far outstripped anyone at his school and graduated a year earlier than the other boys in his class. So he entered medical school already streets ahead of anyone else. His father even belittled him for that – said that medical school was for men not for sissies like him and that he'd fail at it because he had no backbone." She paused and shook her head sadly. "I have never been as happy as when I went to his graduation. He'd topped every subject by a mile. He'd graduated as the youngest student the college had had in the last fifty years and he soundly beat my brother's academic results. You can imagine that it didn't go down very well."

Kate's heart was heavy. That Martin could still be so incredibly gentle and passionate when he'd been so deprived of love himself was a small miracle.

"Like I said, he's a sensitive soul Kate and there are many barriers to get through before he will fully trust anyone. No-one can be rejected and abused like that and not be severely damaged by it. He will need unconditional love if he is to open up to you. I don't think the damage will ever heal completely but with a loving partner he will eventually learn to love and trust. You will have to earn that trust Kate. He won't give it freely. If I had to guess I would say Martin feels that the only thing that has never let him down is medicine. It's the one constant in his life. If you want him, you will also have to become a constant in his life. Someone he knows will be there no matter what."

As Kate drove back into the village she thought of all that Joan had said. Martin's shyness and his inability to talk made so much sense now. He was still that little boy expecting the belt or some cruel comment to cut him down. No wonder he'd pushed people away; they'd done nothing but hurt him. Kate's heart broke for him. One day she hoped she'd get the opportunity to tell him how much she loved him. And if she did, she would find a way to make him realise that there would never be any 'belt' or any harsh words again. There would only be unconditional love.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks for all the wonderful PMs and reviews - I appreciate them very much.**

 **I thought it wise to bump up the rating of this piece to 'M' and some readers have noted that the story has disappeared from the FF site timeline. This might be because you need to change the filter Rating settings to 'All'. (the rating defaults to 'K-T' so you need to change it to 'All' then it will show M rated stories as well.)**


	21. Chapter 21

A taxi dropped Kate in front of the Imperial Hotel in Paris, an old five star establishment with all the old world grace of the aristocratic French chateau it had once been. A liveried doorman greeted her and her bags were carried inside by a porter. Her check-in was seamless and she was soon in the lift heading up to the third floor. The room was all ivory whites and pale greys, with bold coloured flowers in vases dotted around the room and soothing artworks on the walls. Understated opulence described it well she thought as she looked at the crisp linen and the view of the tree-lined boulevard below. She thanked the porter and when he'd closed the door, she sank into one of the comfortable arm chairs and gave a deep sigh of contentment. She was in Paris, her favourite city in the whole world and Martin was somewhere close by in this same hotel. She felt a rush of anticipation. She was very much looking forward to seeing him. She suddenly remembered the envelope the receptionist had handed her when she'd checked in and got up to fetch it.

Her name was neatly hand-written on the cream coloured envelope with the Hotel's logo on it. She unfolded the single sheet.

 _Welcome to your favourite city in the whole world. I hope the magic is still here._

 _The dinner begins at 7 pm – I would be grateful if you would meet me in the foyer at 6.45 pm._

 _Until later,_

 _Martin_

He'd remembered about Paris. She smiled – yes the magic was definitely here – more than ever. She didn't think that he'd paid much attention to her ramblings about Paris when they'd had their first dinner together but clearly nothing escaped his notice. He just didn't talk unless he had something to say.

Kate spent the time available to her pampering herself. She'd booked a visit to a nearby salon where she indulged in a relaxing makeover - manicure, pedicure, hair – the works. She was particularly pleased with how her hair looked - the stylist had got it just right. She wanted to wear it loose so he enhanced her natural curl and it framed her face and cascaded onto her shoulders in soft waves. The stylist admired her natural burnished lowlights saying that she was fortunate to be blessed with such lustrous hair. She'd blushed. French men were real charmers and it made her feel like a million dollars.

Back at the hotel Kate kept a close eye on the time. She had a feeling that Martin would not approve of tardiness. She had a luxurious bath, being careful with her newly styled hair, then began to dress. She'd chosen a full length, formal evening dress in deep burgundy red. It hugged her figure and fell in soft folds to the floor. The bodice was low but not excessively so and her shoulders were bare except for the thin straps of the dress. She applied the minimum of make-up - just a hint of lipstick to enhance the natural colour of her lips. She'd never liked make-up so was pleased that she didn't need anything else. She wore the small gold pendant earrings her father had given her for her twenty first birthday but no other jewellery other than her dress watch.

Kate looked at herself in the full length mirror. She liked her outfit. It was simple but elegant.

6.35. Time to go. She switched off the main lights, leaving just a lamp on for when she came back later and, picking up her clutch bag and cream coloured wrap, she left to meet Martin. She couldn't wait to see him.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin stepped out of the lift at 6.35. A brief scan of the crowded foyer showed that Kate was not yet there but there was still ten minutes to go. He looked distinguished in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo. A white silk shirt, black bow tie and black dress shoes completed the outfit. More than one woman turned to looked at this tall, grey haired man with his imposing bearing and stern frown. He was completely oblivious to any of it.

He stood near the lifts so that he could keep an eye out for Kate, a decision he immediately regretted because people getting out of the lifts who knew him stopped to greet. He responded in his usual terse manner, hoping his frown would put them off. He was nervous and fiddled with his cufflinks and tugged at his collar. He'd been to these functions before because he'd been required to but he'd always gone on his own. This time it was different – he was going with Kate and that definitely made him nervous.

He nodded at a professor from Boston who stopped to introduce his wife. He only listened with half an ear as his eyes kept straying to the bank of lifts. He looked at his watch again. 6.42. The professor was saying something about collaborative research when Martin suddenly stiffened, his eyes riveted on Kate as she stepped out of the lift. His breath caught in his throat and his heart almost stopped as she walked forward turning her head with that beautiful mane of hair, to look for him. The professor turned to see what had caught Martin's attention and he chuckled, "You've got an eye there Ellingham - she sure is a beauty and some lucky fella is going to be sitting next to her all evening."

Yes…and he was that lucky fellow. Martin's mouth went dry. Kate looked stunning and he wasn't the only man staring at her. His heart started hammering in his chest as he excused himself and headed over to where she stood.

"Martin," her face broke into a wide smile as he approached. "Am I on time?"

He could hardly speak, "Umm…yes," he managed, and because he was nervous he just stared at her, his eyes wide and shy. "Umm…you look…umm…" his hand swept down indicating her floor-length dress and he swallowed hard. She smiled up at him as if she knew exactly what he was trying to say, "Thank you Martin."

He'd wanted to say that she looked beautiful and she was easily the most beautiful woman there, yet he couldn't get the words out. It would sound so stupid coming out of his mouth. Instead he waved a hand towards the corridor that led to the ballroom. "Shall we?"

They walked slowly side by side, following the crowd. "You look very handsome in your tuxedo, Martin," she said looking up at him. "I'm a very lucky lady this evening."

He felt himself blushing and was glad of the dim lighting. "Umm…not really…it's just another suit." He looked down at her and said, "And it is I who am lucky."

She smiled at him and slipped her hand through his arm. His heart skipped a beat as they continued their slow walk down the corridor. Every male head was turning and he felt like he was walking on air next to her.

They were shown to their table by an usher and Martin introduced Kate to Arthur Braithwaite and his wife Rachel. Arthur in turn introduced them to the other guests before Martin pulled Kate's chair out for her and they sat down. There were three other couples, besides the Braithwaites but only Arthur was also in the medical profession - the other three were in business. Martin was sure the latter would be the ones with the wallets that Arthur had talked about. He found the idea of trying to extract money from people highly distasteful and he always shunned that side of things. But he tried to be sociable and, when spoken to, politely answered questions about his research.

Kate lost count of how many people approached him, wanting to meet him and to say how impressed they were with his work or with a paper he had written and would he be prepared to come to this or that university or hospital to conduct workshops or lectures. Martin was unfailingly polite even though Kate could see he was very tense and she knew that having to speak to so many strangers was hard for him. The niceties of small-talk were anathema to him and yet he was gritting his teeth and on his best behaviour.

Only when he talked about St Mary's and the research unit did Kate see him open up. Usually you couldn't get more than two words out of him but when he was talking about his work he sounded eager, his eyes wide and his face quite animated. She shared in his enthusiasm because she'd witnessed the results of his pioneering methods first hand in the operating theatre. What she hadn't realised though, was the level of attention his work had already garnered throughout the world.

He looked so handsome and distinguished sitting next to her and she wondered if he was even aware of the impact he had on the people he was introduced to. The way he stood straight and tall as he shook hands, one hand behind his back and his voice low as he said. "How do you do" to anyone he was introduce to made him seem almost aristocratic. Kate noticed that especially the women seemed to become mesmerised by him. She remembered the first time she'd met him, she too had recognised there was something about him that she couldn't quite put a name to but she'd settled for the word 'presence' and she saw it again tonight. His distinguished and refined manner and deeply penetrating eyes, coupled with his natural aura of authority was like a magnet and not only to her. She couldn't take her eyes off of him - and how she loved his beautiful voice.


	22. Chapter 22

During dinner Martin listened to Kate talking to the Braithwaites. She chatted to Arthur and his wife as if she'd known them for years, making them laugh as she told them about Portwenn and its quirky inhabitants. They were also most interested in her comments about St Mary's and the surgical procedures she'd assisted Martin with. Martin was impressed at how much she understood about the actual procedures themselves. She'd obviously read up on the techniques. She was an animated talker but she also had a gift of being able to listen when others were talking. Martin loved the way her hair fell forward and how she absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear as she leaned over to hear what Rachel Braithwaite was saying.

The couple on his left were American - Caleb Farrell and his wife Barbara. He was fiftyish and his florid complexion and round figure had Martin mentally diagnosing him with high blood pressure and possible diabetes or pre-diabetes at least. God knows why people couldn't look in the mirror and see for themselves that something needed to be done about their health. Just losing a few pounds would help - a good few pounds in Farrell's case. He frowned at the man. Apart from his health issues Martin thought him overly talkative as well. He just never stopped. He tried to engage Martin in conversation on sport and 'movies' as he called it, neither topic being of the slightest interest to him but Kate, seeing his patience starting to wear thin, came to his rescue and chatted comfortably about a film that was apparently the latest sensation. Martin was only too happy to sit back and just look at Kate's face as she leaned across him to talk to Farrell. He was disgusted to see that Farrell wasn't looking at Kate's face – he couldn't keep his eyes off of her cleavage. Martin's hackles rose and his mood became quite hostile as he leaned forward to block his view. He turned to Kate, scowling deeply and asked if he could top up her glass of champagne. "Imbecile," he muttered. Kate put her hand on his arm and smiled as if to say "don't mind him - it's okay."

A number of speeches were made during dinner and two speakers in particular paid glowing tribute to Martin's work at St Mary's. One of them said that his pioneering work had changed the way vascular surgery was performed and his methods were now being taught in all the leading medical schools and teaching hospitals. She felt so proud of him and she put her hand out and covered his where it rested on his lap. She felt him jerk slightly and hoped she hadn't embarrassed him. But he looked at her and his expression softened. He turned his hand over and threaded his fingers through hers then turned his attention back to the podium. Kate was surprised. She could only think that it helped that the lighting was really dim, a soft glow coming only from candles on the table. The large table centre-piece also hid a lot from view but it was still a bold move for Martin.

At last the speeches were over and coffee was served. A small orchestra had started playing and some couples were already on the dance floor. Reluctantly Martin released Kate's hand as a waiter poured their coffee. She leaned closer. "I'm so proud of you Martin." she said softly so that only he could hear.

His eyes locked with hers. "You are?"

"Yes." She smiled at him, "You deserve all the accolades. You're a very smart man." She wanted to add 'and handsome and gorgeous'.

He dipped his chin and gave a little cough as he always did when he was embarrassed. "Mmm…well I don't know about that…just doing my job."

A voice at Martin's elbow pulled his gaze away from Kate. "Mind if I ask your beautiful companion to dance Ellingham?" Martin scowled and looked at Farrell with distaste. The short, balding man owned a string of exclusive jewellery stores across the United States and Europe and he made sure everyone knew about it. He definitely fell into the "too much money and no finesse" category in Martin's opinion. It was his wife who had shown an interest in the work he was doing at St Mary's because it had saved their son's life and she felt she wanted to give something back. Martin looked at Farrell and his lip curled. He was about to tell the man he should ask his wife to be his dance partner but then he looked at Kate and thought that it might sound a bit high-handed. Instead he reluctantly said, "That's entirely up to her I should think."

Kate's heart sank but to refuse would just insult Farrell and she guessed that he'd been put at this table for a purpose - so she smiled brightly and said, "I'd be delighted." She wondered as she got up what his wife must be thinking. She didn't seem overly put out and even smiled at Kate as she leaned over to engage Martin in conversation. Martin's face looked like a thundercloud.

His eyes were on Kate as he watched them thread their way through the tables to the dance floor. His scowl deepened as he saw Farrell put his hand in the small of Kate's back and then instead of dancing in ballroom style, which would have been more polite, he put both his arms around Kate with his hands almost on her bottom. Martin felt his blood begin to boil. He saw Kate pulling back as if she was trying to talk to Farrell but the man insisted on drawing her in. It took all of Martin's willpower to stay seated. He felt like going over there and punching Farrell in the face. Such thuggish behaviour was, of course, completely out of the question and completely alien to his nature anyway, but right then the thought appealed to him immensely. Instead he sat and glared at Farrell as he steered Kate amongst the other couples on the dance floor. His expression and body language did not go unnoticed by Barbara Farrell who looked at him with curiosity and not a little sympathy. She obviously knew her husband very well.

Kate was not enjoying the dance. Farrell was sweaty and far too free with his hands and she kept trying to pull away from him only to have him pull her back again. She thanked God when the dance ended and she freed herself from his arms.

"Thank you Mr Farrell," she said politely with a tight smile and began to walk away but he grabbed her arm. "Come on darlin', what's the hurry?" Relief flooded through her when she heard Martin's voice at her side. "Farrell," he said taking Kate's elbow. "I think this dance is mine." Martin's eyes were like chips of ice as he stared down his nose at the man and Farrell thought better than to argue with him and stalked back to the table instead.

The music had started again and Martin stared at Kate. She looked so beautiful with her long hair cascading onto her shoulders and her dress accentuating her perfect figure. He was suddenly paralysed with shyness. His heart was thudding in his chest and his mouth went dry with nerves but she came to him and took his hand. It gave him some confidence and the electricity streaked through his body as his arm went about her and he led her into the dance.

Kate was impressed. In a million years she would never have thought that Martin could dance. He seemed too stiff and reserved, but his steps were sure and he guided her firmly, his hand resting lightly midway up her back and his other hand firmly holding hers as they danced ballroom style to the music. They made a striking couple, moving as if they'd danced together all their lives. They didn't speak, each wrapped in their own thoughts; just savouring the feeling of being so close to one another.

All too soon the song ended and Martin reluctantly released her, only keeping hold of her hand so that he could guide her off the dance floor but just then the band started up again and Kate seemed to recognise the song. She stopped and looked at him expectantly. He raised an eyebrow and she smiled and stepped into his arms again. The music was slow and the vocalist's voice sultry - _I've never had this feeling before,_ _I've never wanted anyone more._ He looked down at Kate and wished with all his heart he could say those words to her. He felt her press a little closer against him and his hand moved slowly down to the small of her back, holding her firmly.

The floor was crowded and he pulled his other arm in so that her hand rested on his chest and he covered it with his own. _And when we're lying close in the dark,_ _So close I feel each beat of your heart._ Their eyes were locked as their bodies slowly moved together. He felt like he was drowning in her eyes. _All of you - your body and soul,_ _Every kind of love you can express,_ _All the secret dreams you've never told...I want all of it._ Her mouth was inches from his. If he bent his head just a little their lips would touch and he wanted to so badly, instead he moved his head to the side and felt her lips brush his jaw then she rested her cheek against his. He smelled the soft scent of her hair and felt the smoothness of her skin and his senses went into overdrive. To him they might as well have been alone in the universe. They'd all but stopped moving, just swaying slowly together, her body moulded to his. He lifted his head and looked deeply into her eyes. _I want all of you, All that you can give, In return I want to give you - all of me._ Every pore of his body was alive to her. He could feel the firmness of her thighs against his and he swallowed hard. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. If only this moment would last forever. But it didn't – the song ended and they drew slightly apart. They still stared at each other as if time had stood still. Her eyes were soft in the dim light. God she was beautiful. Then they stepped slowly away from each other and he kept hold of her hand as they made their way off the dance floor and back to their table.

Just before they got there, Kate turned suddenly and stopped him, her hand resting lightly on his chest, "I want to go Martin."

He bent his head to look intently at her. "Go?" He felt a knot in his stomach. He'd feared that this would happen. "Now?" He thought she'd been enjoying herself and his heart plummeted.

"Yes," she said firmly. "Take me to my room."

His eyes widened. "Your room?" He sounded like a fool repeating everything she said.

"Yes." She was looking up at him and her eyes were wide and her lips parted.

Did she mean what he thought she meant? He didn't dare hope and like an idiot instead of just doing as she said he asked if she was alright.

"Yes Martin, I'm fine. But I'd like to go now. Will you take me to my room?"

He didn't say another word but followed her to their table. Kate gathered her things and they excused themselves. In the lift they couldn't keep their eyes off one another. After another couple got out on the second floor they were alone and as the doors closed Kate slipped her hand into his and her eyes smiled softly into his.

He felt like he was moving through someone else's dream and his heart thudded wildly. The lift doors opened and they got out. Kate still held his hand as she led him down the corridor towards her room. She opened the door with her key card and entered. Not knowing what to do next Martin stood frozen on the threshold but Kate turned to him smiling. She took his hand and pulled him inside and pushed the door shut behind him.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **For those who are interested, the song is _All of You_ \- sung by Julio Iglesias & Diana Ross. It is worth a listen because the lyrics kind of encapsulate how Martin feels about Kate.**


	23. Chapter 23

Martin followed Kate into the dimly lit room and watched as she put her handbag and wrap down on a chair. Then she turned to him. In the soft light she looked so beautiful with her hair framing her face and falling onto her bare shoulders and her dress showing her perfectly curved figure. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He stood with his arms at his sides, rooted to the spot - he was nervous and his tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Kate slowly stepped forward and took both of his hands in hers. She looked up at him and he was lost in her eyes again. For a moment they stood like that just drinking in the sight of one another. Then Kate moved closer until their bodies were almost touching and she took his arms and placed them around her waist. His heart started racing as she slowly slid her arms up his chest and around his neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair. "Kiss me Martin," she whispered softly. He needed no second bidding. He drew her close and slowly lowered his head and his mouth found hers in the most exquisitely tender kiss; it was gentle and filled with all the love he felt for her. His mouth moved slowly and sensuously over hers, tasting her sweetness, gliding over her lips and pulling them gently between his own - then he trailed his mouth along her jaw to her neck. She moaned softly and guided his mouth back to hers. Her kiss was a little more demanding, nipping at his bottom lip, teasing him. He tried to deepen the kiss but she evaded him and instead her mouth traced a path along his chin to just above the collar of his silk shirt where a pulse hammered wildly. Her lips sent shivers through him. He pulled her closer and his mouth captured hers and this time his kiss was hungry, seeking her sweet tongue and she hummed with pleasure against his mouth. They moulded themselves together, his hands pressing her hips against his body and hers stroking his hair and face. By the time they pulled apart they were both breathless.

Kate unbuttoned his jacket and slid it from his shoulders and he threw it onto a nearby chair. He looked so sexy without it, she thought. Her hands slid over his broad shoulders down the silky material of his shirt, over his chest and came to rest on his narrow hips. She looked up at him. "I want you so much," she whispered. His eyes went dark and he kissed her lips tenderly, deeply - savouring the softness of her.

"Kate…" he murmured as his mouth trailed down her neck.

"Mmm…"

"Are you…sure?" he whispered.

She pulled back slightly to look at him. "Martin…I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

She tugged at his bowtie until it hung loose around his neck then slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, putting her lips to his skin as she exposed his chest one button at a time. Martin threw back his head and closed his eyes as he savoured the feeling. It drove him mad with desire. Every nerve in his body was alive to her – craving her. He ran his hands up her back until they reached bare skin. It felt like satin under his fingers. His whole body was as tight as a bowstring as his hands caressed her shoulders and arms. Kate's hands slid down his bare chest until they reached his belly and explored the tautness of his muscles there. As she looked down there was no doubting his state of arousal and it sent a shiver of exquisite anticipation rushing through her. She pulled his shirt out from where it was tucked into his trousers and undid the remaining buttons then slid her hands around his waist and up his bare back. He heard her sigh as her mouth moved over his smooth chest and found his nipple. Oh God. Oh…sweet…God.

Martin's hands shook as they moved up her arms - he slid the thin straps of her dress aside and lowered his head so that his lips caressed her shoulder. He felt her shiver and she twisted so that the dress slid slowly down over her hips and to the floor where it lay in a pool at their feet.

Martin could hardly breathe as he gazed down at her. "You're so beautiful," he whispered," so very beautiful. Do you know that?" She wore no bra and her breasts were firm and round and his hands slid down from her shoulders to cup them gently. His thumbs grazed her nipples as his mouth came down on hers again. "Martin," she whispered against his mouth, "Make love to me." Every nerve in his body was on fire for her. He looked at her for a long moment before he gently lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her to the bed, all the while kissing her with a wild urgency. He lay her down and stood back to take off his shirt as she watched him, her eyes half closed and glazed with passion.

Martin's eyes roved over her perfect body, from her beautiful breasts to her flat stomach and curved hips and on to her long, shapely legs – she lay there clad only in sheer red lace panties which had him swallowing hard.

He undressed quickly and Kate admired his body, so lean and firm and aroused. He came to lie beside her, his tall body warm against hers and she put her arms around him and pulled his head down and they kissed, slowly, deeply, sensuously. Her body was so beautiful, her skin smooth and silky under his hand as he slowly caressed her.

Kate moaned with pleasure and her hands stroked his back and slid down to his firm bum. Shivers rippled through her as his hand roamed down and he slid his hand under the lace panties and coaxed them down over her thighs. He let his hand linger there as he bent his head to gently kiss one breast and then the other. She arched her back, "Ohhh…!"

Eventually he felt her shift as she shed the panties then she pushed him back against the pillows and straddled him. He lay looking up at her beautiful face with her hair cascading around her shoulders and her perfect breasts. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life. She pulled her hair to one side and bent to kiss him and he ran his hands down her back to cup her firm bottom. He needed her – needed to be inside her – needed her to open up to him. He was crazy with desire for her but somewhere, dimly a little sanity prevailed.

"Kate?" he whispered, his voice ragged and deep. "We haven't…umm…discussed…protection." He'd brought condoms in the hope that by some miracle this would happen but, damn it, they were in his room! His heart was racing. He was almost at the point where he didn't care about protection as his hands cupped her breasts and he felt the weight of her on his hips. But he was prepared to get dressed and go and fetch them.

"In the bedside drawer," she murmured. He groaned with relief. Kate shifted to lie beside him and he sat up and quickly prepared himself then moved to take her in his arms again but Kate had other ideas. She pulled him so that he knelt over her, his arms either side of her shoulders. He looked down at her, at her face flushed with desire and her lips parted and pink and soft and he lowered his head and his mouth took hers in a scorching kiss – it was hot and demanding and insatiable and she responded in kind. They were on fire for each other. He felt the pressure of her hands on his hips pulling him down, guiding him as she arched her body to meet his. They joined and she gasped, "Oh my God Martin…oh God." Martin thought he was going to die with the exquisite pleasure of it – he groaned as he sank his weight into her and after a slight pause he began to move.

Their coupling was urgent and intense. Their desperate need for one another, fuelled by the sexual tension that had been building between them for weeks, spilled over into an outpouring of raw passion and pure lust. They merged together, quickly finding their rhythm as they gave themselves unreservedly to one another. Kate threw her head back and moaned as his body rocked against hers, driving her slowly and inexorably to the summit where for a long while he kept them suspended in a state of exquisite pleasure until they could no longer endure and they eventually reached that place of no return, tumbling slowly over the edge together, each crying out the other's name as they lost themselves in that explosive moment of ecstasy. It robbed them of their breath and at last they lay shaken, their hearts pounding and their limbs weak.

Martin's face was buried in her neck and she stroked his back as they tried to catch their breath. He felt her body beneath his, her legs still wrapped around the back of his and he gently kissed her neck and mouth and eventually shifted his weight to lie beside her. Their legs were entwined and her head was on his shoulder. He'd never felt such contentment; never felt such overwhelming love for anyone. It was as if he had lost a part of himself to her forever and she would now always be a part of him, even if this was the only time they ever joined as lovers.

They lay like that until they their breathing evened out once more, just savouring the feeling of their bodies touching. Martin gently stroked her shoulder. For the first time ever, he didn't want to get up and leave. If anything he wanted to lie beside Kate and feel the comfort of her body and listen to her breathing for as long as she'd have him there. He just hoped that she wouldn't feel restless now that they'd made love.

She looked up at him and stroked the damp hair from his forehead. She could hear his heart thudding strongly. His eyes seemed soft as he looked at her. She had never loved a person more in her life and her heart felt as if it was too big for her body. She stroked his face and gave him a lazy, slow smile. "You're a real surprise Martin Ellingham," she said softly.

He frowned slightly. "Am I?"

She stroked her fingers down his chest and her hand came to rest on his flat belly. "Mmm…a wonderful, sexy surprise."

Sexy? No-one had ever called him sexy before and he didn't quite know what to make of it. He turned his head to look at her lying in the crook of his arm and raised his eyebrow. "Sexy?" His voice was deep.

"Mmm…very... _very_ sexy." She stroked his chest slowly. "If every girl knew what simmered under that stern façade of yours I wouldn't stand a chance. They'd be queueing up."

"Nonsense," he grunted and turned onto his side. His face looked relaxed and his eyes dreamy. He trailed his fingers down her cheek and along her jaw and came to rest on her lips where he traced the outline gently. Then he leaned down and kissed her softly.

Kate savoured the feeling of his body against hers, her leg lay over his as she let her hand slide down his back to his firm bum. His eyes stared deeply into hers. "You aren't a surprise," he said."

Her eyes went wide and she looked a bit hurt. "So… a bit disappointing then?"

He sat up and leaned on his elbow, "God no…anything but." His fingers stroked her cheek, "You're everything I always imagined in my dreams…everything…and much, much more." He kissed her forehead then extricated his leg from under hers and sat up. "Umm…I need to pee."

Kate burst out laughing and watched as he walked to the bathroom. He had such a beautiful, lithe body. He was a big man but had a certain grace as he walked. While he was gone she lay thinking about their lovemaking – from the gossip about him and Lara Perkins she'd known there might be some truth to the story that he was a good lover but nothing prepared her for what she'd just experienced. Explosive came close. Who knew that this man who showed the world such a closed off and unemotional face could harbour such passion and, what's more, be able to bring out the unbridled passion in her. Once he'd lost his shyness he was a bold and considerate lover and she was more in love with him than ever.

The bathroom door opened and he came back to her, completely unselfconscious about his nakedness. He slid down onto the bed and went to put his arms around her again but she moved out of reach. "Uh uh…not so fast…I also need the bathroom."

She went and took the opportunity to freshen up. She looked at her face in the mirror and saw a very contented woman looking back. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses and her eyes had a languid droop to them. The cat had definitely had her share of the cream, she thought.

He was lying on his back with his eyes closed and an arm behind his head when she went back to him. She slid under the sheet, wrapping herself around him. She gently kissed his lips, slowly teasing him, tasting and nipping and running her hands down his torso to stroke his hips and thighs. "Mmm…you're starting something again," he said, a little smile tugging at his mouth.

"I sincerely hope so." She trailed kisses down his chest, her hair splaying out and covering her face. He shifted suddenly, pulling her to lie on top of him and she felt his arousal.

This time their lovemaking was slow and exquisitely tender. They explored every inch of each other's bodies and their ecstasy came upon them slowly and in waves. He buried himself deep within her and she felt like they were one, joined in body but also in their souls. He whispered her name against her skin - over and over – as his hands caressed her body in a way that drove her crazy for him. She couldn't get enough. When finally they followed each other into that most exquisite of places, it was as if they merged together and surrendered to each other. They clung together, feeling the energy flowing from one to the other, sated and left weak.

Afterwards they lay entwined, unable to speak - communicating only with their eyes and with tender caresses. They became quiet at last and eventually drifted off into a contented sleep.

Martin woke first. He felt Kate's soft body against his, her leg lying over his and her arm around his waist. Her hair lay soft on his shoulder and he sighed deeply; the feeling of deep contentment was still there. He'd never wanted to wake up with anyone before and it felt so good…so right. He knew that if he'd woken up and she wasn't there he would have felt bereft. His heart felt full but at the same fearful that she would want to remove herself from him now that they had made love. That she would feel restless and want to get as far away from him as possible. He'd felt like that often enough in the past.

She stirred and gave him that lazy smile. "Good morning my handsome man." Her voice was husky with sleep.

He answered her with a tender and lengthy kiss.

A long while later he looked at his watch on the bedside table and it showed that it was just past eight o'clock. He suddenly had a horrible thought. How was he going to get back to his room, unshaven and dressed in a crumpled tuxedo just as everyone would be leaving their rooms to go down to breakfast. He looked at Kate lying next to him. He felt a surge of love for her that melted his insides. He couldn't resist and let his fingers lightly stroke her shoulder and come to rest on her firm breast. And as he stared into her beautiful eyes he didn't care what people thought. He cared only about Kate.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	24. Chapter 24

Martin reluctantly left Kate's room a little while later to go and shower and change his clothes. He opted to use the stairs instead of the lift and managed to reach his room without meeting anyone he knew. His slightly dishevelled appearance, or dishevelled by his standards anyway, didn't cause anyone to look at him twice but he was relieved to close the door of his room firmly behind him. He slowly shed his clothes and turned on the shower, letting the warm water stream over his body - a body that still hummed with the thrill of a night spent in Kate's arms. He almost couldn't believe that it had actually happened. But when he looked in the mirror and saw his, dare he say, happy face, unshaven as it was and the feeling of utter love and contentment that filled him, he knew it was real. She had been a warm and passionate lover, giving of herself fully but at the same time she'd been unafraid to let him know what gave her pleasure. And she had read his desires as if she'd always known him. He couldn't get enough of her.

He still couldn't believe that she had even wanted him to make love to her. She could have any of the young men that moved in her circles – he'd seen how they looked at her and how often he would find one of them flirting with her at work. He was nothing like them. Why did she want him? Whatever happened in the future, he knew that his night spent with Kate would remain with him for the rest of his life. Nothing could take that away from him. Not even what he knew must inevitably come – the day Kate had had enough of him and realised that he was boring, miserable and a useless burden. For now they were in Paris together and she was content with that. But what about tomorrow or when they were back in London would she still want to see him? Would she regret her moment of passion with him? Would she find him ridiculous? He turned from the mirror and began to dress. He put off those thoughts and thought instead that he was about to go downstairs and meet her and he was about to spend the day with her and he must be content with that. He would be with Kate and that's all that mattered.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate stood under the shower and let the water run over her skin. She felt soft and thoroughly content, her body still alive with the memory of Martin's touch and the way he'd made love to her. He'd been tender and passionate and so aware of her and what gave her pleasure and she felt that he gave everything of himself to her. He was an extraordinarily sensitive man and she knew that buried under all that shyness and fear was a man of immense strength with the capacity to love unconditionally. But he suppressed it. He'd spent his entire life suppressing it. At the first inkling that someone wanted to get close to him emotionally he would balk and withdraw. He would not put himself in a position where he could be rejected and crushed with words of goodbye. If only he knew that she would never leave him – that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But as much as she wanted to pour out her love for him, she knew she had to bite back the words. The last thing she wanted was that he withdraw from her. For now she would cherish their time together. She was about to spend the day with him in Paris, her magical city and she would just enjoy being with him – building a memory to last her a lifetime.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

By the time they'd dressed and met in the foyer it was mid-morning and they'd missed breakfast so they found a little patisserie not far from the hotel. They discussed what they would eat and Martin turned to the young girl behind the counter and conversed quietly in French and she smiled widely at him. Another surprise. He was full of them. They bought baguettes and cheese and coffee in disposable cups, which Martin at first was not prepared to consider. It would ruin the flavour he said with a look of disapproval. But Kate persuaded him and he acquiesced with only a small frown on his face and that soon disappeared when she smiled up at him and hooked her arm through his.

They sat on a park bench to eat and listened to buskers playing a Gilbert Becaud tune - each of them thinking that the musicians had chosen that song just for them. _I bless the day I found you, I want to stay around you and so I beg you, let it be me…._ Kate smiled up at Martin, if only he knew that she wanted with all her heart to say that to him. She looked away and continued sipping her coffee. _Don't take this heaven from one, if you must cling to someone, now and forever, let it be me_. Martin felt that someone had read his thoughts and put them in the song. He wanted so much to say words like that to her. Idiot…anyone in their right mind would laugh at such silly romantic drivel.

They walked the streets of Paris, stopping to look at artists painting which sometimes had Martin frowning, "What's the point of painting something that looks _nothing_ like it's supposed to look?" he grumbled. "Even with artistic licence liberally applied there should be some resemblance, surely?" He was definitely a classics man and not much one for modern art. She'd laughed and said that artistic expression couldn't be put in a box Martin or it wouldn't be art, would it now? He'd looked sceptical and they'd moved on to the next artist whose beautiful watercolours appealed more to his senses. While Kate stood chatting to some strangers about a painting another artist was doing nearby he bought a little watercolour of a tree-lined boulevard with its pavement cafés. He hoped she'd like it.

They went into every bookshop they saw and she bought him a little book on the French clock maker Achille Brocot hoping he didn't already have it. They sat and had another cup of strong coffee and fresh croissants at a pavement café under trees that were just beginning to sprout green buds, newly awakened by the warmth of the early spring days. He'd frowned when she'd ordered the croissants and said, "They're full of fat." Kate looked at him with an expression that said 'So?' She broke off a little piece and popped it in her mouth. "You're in Paris, Martin. One delicious, decadent little croissant is not going to make any difference to that gorgeous body of yours." He'd blushed and glanced sideways, hoping no one had heard her.

"You speak French beautifully Martin. You really are full of surprises." He gave a self-conscious little cough and Kate smiled. For a man with such an imposing demeanour it always amazed her that he was so shy and self-deprecating when it came to compliments.

"I learnt at school - French and ballroom dancing. It got me out of playing rugby and athletics." He grimaced at the thought. They'd hounded him to participate in both sports because of his height but he'd hated it. He could never understand why anyone would deliberately want to invite the inevitable injury that went with playing rugby - and athletics just bored him. Tennis or squash were more to his liking. There it was all about outwitting one's opponent on a one-on-one, physical and tactical level. He suddenly realised how long it had been since he'd played. He looked at Kate and wondered if she played.

"I don't speak French nearly as well as you do," she said, "but I've been teaching myself with an App I downloaded." Martin looked puzzled. "It's like having a tutor on your mobile or computer. The voice coaches you how to pronounce things then you talk back and it tells you if you're correct or not." She shrugged. "It's not ideal but it's better than nothing." She smiled at him teasingly, "but now I think you will make a far better tutor." He'd said he didn't think so – he hadn't spoken conversational French in years and could only just get by.

She looked around at the people sitting at the little round tables and sighed contentedly. "I love Paris so much." He listened as Kate tried to explain what it was about Paris that made it special. She said it had an energy, a vibrancy - an atmosphere of anticipation, of romance, of old world elegance and charm and then there was the language and the culture. He listened to all the words but he cared more about the expression of excitement and dreamy happiness on her face. Right now that's what made Paris special for him. And his eyes smiled at her over his cup.

Kate was happier than she'd ever been in her life. And it showed. Martin couldn't keep his eyes off her and she hardly let go of his hand for a minute. At first he'd been so self-conscious about their physical contact in public but she'd said that no-one even noticed – no-one knew them. "And I like holding your hand Martin." Once again he'd acquiesced. Their whole day was filled with little glances and light touches and once they shared a soft and tender kiss when they found they were alone for a moment in a side street.

She even persuaded him to shed his tie but only because his refusal had dimmed her smile. "It's so hot Martin. Please…for me? Look around you, most men have open-necked shirts." And she'd reached up and whispered in his ear that she thought he'd look sexy without it and his eyes had smiled indulgently down at her as he allowed her to undo his tie and the top button of his shirt. And it did feel better. She'd slipped the tie into his pocket, standing on tip toe to kiss his cheek and she told him he was the most handsome man in Paris. His heart felt like it would burst.

Whenever Kate looked at him he was looking at her. His eyes made her feel wanted and special. Just being with him gave her such immense joy and she knew that as long as she lived she would remember her time with him and Paris would now forever remind her of Martin.

By the time they got back to the hotel it was dark and they went straight to his room. The door had hardly closed before he pulled her into his arms and his kisses rained down on her - desperate and demanding. He backed her into the room as he kissed her neck, his hands roaming everywhere and hers undoing the buttons of his shirt until she could caress and kiss his smooth chest. He undid her jeans, sliding them down her legs and kissing her belly until she gasped and gripped his hair between her fingers. Not wanting to wait, he lifted her and tumbled her onto the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he undressed her, letting the clothes drop to the floor, one piece at a time. He felt her tugging at his belt as he knelt beside her on the bed. He didn't even manage to shed his clothes properly before she pulled him down to meet her arching body and they joined and he groaned at the intense pleasure of it. There was no finesse to their lovemaking just an urgent and frantic need that drove them swiftly to a peak. It left them helpless and weak and they collapsed in a breathless tangle when it was quickly and finally spent.

When he eventually got his breath back Martin raised himself to rest on his elbows as he looked down at Kate's flushed face and glorious hair spread out over the sheets. Her eyes were soft and her lips red from his kisses. He felt such overwhelming love for her that he knew she must see it and feel it. But he didn't know if she was ready to hear the words he so desperately wanted to say - that he loved her and wanted her to be his wife. His words were trapped, held captive by his fear that if he told her, she would feel caged and that he would frighten her away with his intensity. The last thing she would want was for him to become serious. So instead he gently brushed the hair from her face and kissed her tenderly. Then he shifted his weight to lie behind her, cupping her breast in his hand and just savouring the feeling of their intimacy.

"Umm…Kate?" he said after a while.

"Mmm?" She loved the feeling of his hands on her and the warmth of his body against hers.

"We didn't…umm…use protection," he murmured against her shoulder.

Kate turned in his arms and stroked his face gently. "It's alright Martin. I'm on the pill…but if it's something else you are worried about, don't' be…"

Martin was horrified. "That's not what I meant at all." He pulled away from her so that he could look at her properly. "I didn't think that, God no…I only thought that…umm…you might not like it if …umm… you were to become pregnant." His face took on an earnest expression, "Of course if you did…I would be happy to go with whatever you want to do…I mean…I wouldn't walk away or anything …"

She pulled him down to her and kissed his mouth. "You are such gentleman Martin Ellingham. But don't worry…I won't become pregnant."

Martin didn't care if she was. He wanted to marry her and she would make a lovely mother - he had no doubt about it. Nothing like his own mother who'd hardly acknowledged his existence. He wasn't too sure what kind of father he would make though. What if he turned out to be like his parents? It terrified him. He pushed the thought aside. It was too soon to be thinking of things like that but it felt so right being with her. She brought out things in him that were hidden so deep inside. Things he didn't even know were there. Like the unrestrained passion and complete abandon he exhibited when he was in her arms. The aching tenderness he felt when he looked at her. His need to see her smile and the way his heart melted when she did. He loved her so desperately.

Would she run if he told her? She seemed to like being with him today – he couldn't think of anyone except Aunty Joan who'd ever liked being with him. But Kate had looked happy – maybe he could dare to hope - just a little.

Later, after they'd showered they lay in the big bed and talked quietly about their day and she told him that Paris would never be the same for her ever again. And when he looked at her with concern she smiled at him and said that it would be even more special to her because of him.

They fell into a deep and contented sleep and woke early to tenderly make love one more time before they had to pack their things and leave for the airport.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **The Gilbert Becaud song is '** **Je t'appartiens'** **and the English version of it is 'Let It Be Me' made famous by the Everly Brothers in 1960 (this version is worth a listen as it sums up what both Kate and Martin are thinking and hoping for).**

 **Thanks to everyone for all the reviews and PMs - I know not all of you have liked the path that Martin is traveling with Kate but this is a different story arc - it is a Martin before Portwenn and before there ever was a Louisa. A Martin who is very much a man and not as suppressed as he is portrayed later in the DM series. I hope everyone will follow and see where it eventually leads.**


	25. Chapter 25

Back in London things returned to normal with frightening speed and Paris soon seemed like a dream. Kate's team were booked back to back and the demand for theatres was at a premium.

She worked with Martin a number of times that next week, all the while maintaining a professional manner but she couldn't help looking at him whenever she was unobserved. She loved the way he looked when he was bent over the operating table, his brow furrowed in concentration and his eyes focused on what he was doing. If the others in the operating theatre only knew what passions simmered in this man they would be shocked. They would never believe that he could make a woman melt with desire and make her feel so loved. And how the hands performing this life-saving surgery could caress a woman's body until she felt weak and his mouth could drive her wild. She gave herself a mental shake and smiled under her surgical mask. Pull yourself together Rushton. You've kept the interaction professional so far, don't mess it up now. But it was difficult when all she wanted to do was stare at him or touch him in some way. But instead they greeted each other and spoke as they had always done which meant he grunted and she nodded and smiled. Just like before they became lovers.

Lovers. It still sounded strange to her. But they were lovers. The weekend she had spent with him had been the happiest of her entire life. But now that they were back she'd not been alone with him again. He had a punishing schedule with surgery from as early as 6 am and going on all day. On other days he had back to back consultations in his rooms. Then he still had to do his rounds twice a day and give his attention to the gaggle of junior registrars that trailed behind him and then deal with whatever else was thrown at him in the way of emergencies.

Kate's schedule was no less hectic. She attended procedures all day and tried to keep the consultants happy with the theatre schedules, making sure that the staff she allocated was the best for each procedure. By the time she got home in the evenings she was sometimes too exhausted to eat. She couldn't imagine how Martin must feel. But the coming weekend they were both free and they'd tentatively planned to meet up - she hoped more than anything that nothing would derail it and that she would be able to see him – even just for a little while.

On Friday evening, as she was leaving, she saw him walking towards her in the corridor. His tall distinguished figure had her heart racing. She smiled as he opened the street door for her and they walked down the steps together and onto the pavement outside. It was already dark and there were no taxis.

"How are you Martin?" She said looking up at him, "You look tired." Her voice was soft and concerned.

The dim light created shadowy lines on his face and made his hair look silver. "I'm fine," He looked intently at her. She was so lovely with her hair framing her face. "And how are you?" His voice was soft and deep and made her heart feel full.

"I miss you." Her eyes searched his.

"Yes." And she knew he meant so much more than that single word.

She wanted to ask him to come home with her but she was afraid he would think she was pushing him. She kept on thinking of Lara Perkins. What had she said to Martin that he'd felt he had to break it off with her? She didn't want to make that mistake.

Just then a taxi came into view and he hailed it. "Come Kate, we can share."

They got in and he ventured a glance at her as the taxi pulled away and filtered into the busy evening traffic. She looked worried. He slid his hand across the seat and covered hers and she turned to look at him. Were those tears he could see or was it just the way the light reflected in her eyes? She turned her hand and gripped his. "I miss you," she whispered.

Even though he was technically still on call until the next morning, Martin knew he couldn't spend another night without her. "Come home with me Kate," he said softly.

Kate's face lit up and she nodded and gripped his hand tightly. "Can we stop at my place first…for a few things?"

The taxi stopped outside Kate's block and she ran upstairs and quickly packed an overnight bag. In a few minutes she was back and they were on their way to Kensington. She slipped her hand into his again.

His townhouse was part of a terrace in a tree-lined avenue softly illuminated by Victorian street lamps. Martin unlocked the front door and switched on the hall light, standing aside to let her in. The hall led into a sitting room which was beautifully but sparely furnished. To the left was a study with walls that were lined with books and there was an antique mantel clock in pieces on his desk. She smiled as she imagined him sitting there absorbed in his hobby. Off to one side the sitting room flowed into a well-appointed kitchen with a small dining table. To the right of the front door were stairs that led to the bedrooms above.

Kate went further into the sitting room and heard Martin close and lock the front door. She put her bag on the floor and turned to watch him as he walked towards her. He looked so handsome in his dark grey suit. She put her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder and sighed when she felt his arms go around her. It felt so good. She'd been longing to be in his arms all week.

He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his. His eyes were soft as he stared at her and his hand stroked her hair. "I've missed you Kate," he whispered and before she could speak his mouth found hers. Their kiss was exquisitely gentle and tender and it set their hearts racing. When he lifted his head he said, "Let me show you upstairs and you can put your things out while I fix us something to eat."

Upstairs there were two double bedrooms with _en suite_ bathrooms. He showed her to his room. It was very tidy and masculine with its dark blue bed-linen and spartan décor. She unpacked and went downstairs to find him in the kitchen with an apron covering his suit. He had prepared a chicken salad accompanied by ciabatta he'd bought the day before at his local bakery.

They sat at the little table and ate, not talking much and once again she was struck by how tired he looked. When they'd tidied up and packed the dishwasher, they sat together on the sofa and she nestled against his chest. He told her about a lecture he'd been asked to give at Cambridge – a specialised surgical procedure where other doctors would have the opportunity to ask questions while he operated. He wasn't so keen on it but this is the way things had been taught throughout the centuries and was why the operating room was called a theatre in the first place. These days however, the audience was in a separate, enclosed observation area and questions were asked via audio-visual systems with feeds to and from the theatre. He was scheduled to go in a week and would be gone for three days.

Kate was pleased for him. She was always interested in what he was doing but she was worried that he didn't seem to be getting enough time to wind down and certainly no real time to himself. She wondered if she could persuade him to go away for a weekend somewhere – not too far so they would save on traveling time. She'd love to go to Portwenn but it was too far and it would be a bit awkward for them to stay together. She would find something and put it to him when he came back.

They spent a tender night in each other's arms and in the morning they made breakfast together then headed out of London for a drive, both of them hoping they could spend a day in each other's company without bumping into anyone they knew. Martin drove a silver Lexus which, he told her, he only took out over weekends when he was not on call, which was a pity because he loved driving.

They drove about an hour outside London and eventually stopped at a rambling old inn, probably dating from the 1700s if she had to guess. He turned to her, "I thought we could have some lunch here - if you'd like to?" She nodded eagerly.

He got out and walked around the front of the car to open her door for her. As she stepped out she put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently, "This looks lovely Martin."

"Yes…it has a good reputation and I have wanted to try it for some time now." He fell into step beside her as they approached the entrance. "I hope it's up to scratch."

Their table had a view of beautifully manicured lawns leading down to a river. There were numerous aquatic birds around including a few swans and Kate was fascinated by some children throwing little pieces of bread at them in the hope of enticing them closer. The swans of course ignored them but the geese and ducks, greedy as always, obliged and swam to the bank.

The waiter took their drinks order, Martin ordered sparkling water and she a virgin daiquiri. He raised one eyebrow. She laughed and said, "Don't worry there's no alcohol in it…hence the virgin part of it."

When the waiter had taken their meal order and left, Kate looked at Martin, who was studiously looking out the window. "How did you get to know about this place? It's delightful."

"I read a review in the Times a while ago. I've been meaning to try it…but until now…"

"And now here we are." She smiled at him. "Once before when we had dinner you seemed to know a lot about how the food had been prepared. I gathered that you like to cook." She looked at him expectantly and when he didn't answer she said, "Do you?"

"Yes…I taught myself. I'm very particular about ingredients." Kate smiled. She could just imagine. She looked at him sitting across from her and thought that even though they had shared so much together, they didn't really know a lot about one another. Especially the little things and the interests they had, what their likes and dislikes were - what made them sad, annoyed, happy. Did anything make Martin truly happy?

She articulated her thoughts. "We don't know very much about each other do we Martin?" She tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows.

He swallowed. "Umm…not really...no." He wasn't sure he liked where Kate obviously want to go with that question.

"Well I think we should remedy that, don't you? Tell me where you were born...schooling...all of that."

He looked worried.

"OK I'll go first…I was born in north-west Cornwall in a little village called Portwenn. Went to school there and in Truro and then on to university in London…mother's a writer, father a professor of English literature…was a professor…" She paused. "I have a weakness for chocolate and books...and handsome vascular surgeons." She smiled impishly. "Your turn."

He blushed and looked uncomfortable. "Umm…" his mouth opened then shut again. But when she continued to smile gently at him, he said in a rush, "Born in London, went to boarding school in Berkshire…then on to medical school. Father also a surgeon - mother…umm…umm…they live in Portugal…we don't have much contact." He took a sip of his water and fiddled with the cutlery in front of him.

"None whatsoever?

"No." The word sounded curt. "Umm...I'd rather not talk about that."

She looked at him. His face had taken on that closed off expression she'd seen so much of when she'd first met him. She now knew it meant that he was warding off hurt, protecting his vulnerability. Her heart melted for him. "It's OK Martin. You don't have to if you don't want to."

His stern look softened a little. She smiled at him, "Now tell me about the ring instead."

"Ring?" He frowned. "What ring?"

"The one on your right hand." She looked pointedly at his hand where it lay on the table. "Do I have anything to be worried about?"

His fingers immediately went to it, twisting it round. "Worried?" He was aware that he was repeating everything she said again.

"No wife or ex-wife out there somewhere?" she smiled mischievously.

He looked appalled. "No. Why would you think that?"

"Well because it looks like a wedding ring."

"It _is_ a wedding ring…it belonged to my grandfather," he said almost indignantly. "He was a physician. He gave me my first frog to dissect when I was five. His name was Henry Christopher Ellingham." He took the ring off and showed her the engraving on the inside 'HCE - CRE 5.6.1930'. "My grandparents' initials." His face was soft as he looked at it.

"You loved your grandfather?"

He looked uncomfortable and struggled to respond. "Yes…" he managed eventually. He put the ring on again. "I always wear it. In theatre it's always in my pocket." He looked down - suddenly extremely self-conscious.

He really was a complex man. There were so many facets to him, like the one he was showing her now - that he had a sentimental side to him. That he had loved his grandparents. And it also told her that probably the only male figure in Martin's young life who might have nurtured him and been a role model had been ripped from him - separated from him when he was sent to boarding school at such a young age. She hoped she never met his parents. She wouldn't be able to control her tongue if she did.

Just then the waiter arrived with their meals - seafood paella for her and grilled sole, no butter with seasonal vegetables for him. He seemed to love his fish. So did she.

They ate in silence for a while then he asked if she was enjoying her food. Yes she was…and was he? Yes, quite acceptable. She judged that to be high praise coming from him. She asked him to try some of her paella and see if he could identify what spices had been used and he did and he suggested several combinations. He ended by saying that it was tasty and next time he would order that.

Next time. She liked that.

Later, after the waiter had cleared their plates away and brought them coffee, Kate tilted her head and looked at him. "You haven't yet shared one of your weaknesses with me Martin…you're not getting away that easily."

He dipped his chin and gave a little cough. "Weaknesses?" He looked at her long and hard. _She_ was his weakness. But he couldn't say that.

"Yes…you already know that chocolate is one of mine."

"Ah… you mean to eat?"

"Well yes…what did you think I meant?" She grinned at him. "I already know what some of your other weaknesses are…" and he blushed.

He was so adorable. She just wanted to hug him and tell him how much she loved him. One day…maybe.

They'd finished their coffee and Kate suggested that they go for a walk down to the river and he agreed and called for the bill.

Outside it was fresh but not too cold and they walked slowly down a little footpath on the river bank. The brown water flowed by with the occasional duck fighting against the current to forage for food. They eventually reached a slight bend in the river where there was bench under a huge willow tree and they sat down side by side, mesmerised by the flowing water with its gentle sound and its lazy progress.

Kate moved close to him so that their thighs were touching. He looked at her with a little smile tugging at his mouth. She loved that look. He turned to glance around but they were alone and the inn was out of sight round the bend in the river. He put his arm around her shoulders and she rested her hand on his thigh and turned her face up inviting him to kiss her which he did…slowly, sweetly, deeply so that her breath stopped and her heart pounded wildly. "Mmm...Martin Ellingham…I should ask you where you learned to kiss like that but I think I might be a bit jealous if you told me."

He grunted. "No-one taught me." He dipped his chin.

"So a natural talent then?" she said giving him that mischievous grin that he loved so much.

He leaned in to kiss her again and she put her hand behind his head and stroked his hair because he liked that.

They left shortly afterwards and on the way back Martin put on Rossini string sonatas and they both enjoyed the drive listening to the beautiful music. Kate rested her hand lightly on his thigh and felt content. Her love for this man was growing bigger every day.

That evening she sat on the sofa reading looking up from time to time to watch him through the open doorway of his study as he worked on his clock. He was bent over the desk, concentrating over the tiny parts he was fitting into the clock's mechanism. After an hour she got up and came to stand behind him, massaging his shoulders and bending down to nuzzle his neck. "Would you like some tea?"

He put down the little screwdriver and the part he was holding and pulled her round to sit on his lap. "Tea would be nice." He kissed her gently and stroked her cheek with his fingers and his eyes were tender as he looked deeply into hers. She wanted so badly to say the words _I love you_ , but she was afraid. Surely though he could see it in her eyes. And what was he thinking when he looked at her like that? Had they not shared more than just a casual fling together? It felt like it to her but Martin was spare with his words. His actions and the way he looked at her told a different story; that there was a depth of feeling but she needed to hear it from him. Either way, she was getting to a point where she wouldn't be able to help herself and sooner or later she would blurt out her love for him when they were making love.

She stroked his face tenderly and leaned in to kiss his lips. "Neither of us will have any tea if we carry on like this, will we?" She smiled into his eyes and felt his hand run down over her breast to her belly and come to rest on her thigh, his eyes were half closed as he looked at her. "Mmm…you're right." He nuzzled her neck and she shivered with the pleasure of it. "Is that a problem, do you think?" his voice was deep against the base of her throat where a pulse hammered wildly. Kate moaned softly and she pulled his head up so she could kiss him.

They made love on the big sofa, taking their time with each other, gazing at each other's bodies as if to memorize every inch. Each touch felt like an act of worship for Kate. She wanted to be close to him - inside of him as he was inside of her. They moved slowly together, intensely aware of each other as if their senses were merged. Their eyes were locked as they gave of themselves and a much deeper awareness came to life. They both felt it. They were both rendered helpless by this fragile and vulnerable state. Afterwards they lay close together, neither of them speaking but both trembling on the verge of saying those words of commitment. Both desperately afraid that those very words would drive the other away.

Deep down Martin felt he didn't deserve Kate. If he told her he loved her it would change the dynamic of their relationship. She would feel that same panic he had felt when Lara Perkins had declared her love and she would want to get as far away from him as possible. She was so beautiful – she could have any man she wanted. Why would she want to spend the rest of her life with a man like him?

Kate felt that Martin was unable to commit and would run a mile if she told him she loved him. He was so self-sufficient and didn't seem to need anyone in his life. But then again, he was so hard to read. She got the impression that sometimes he was like a lonely little boy looking at life from the side-lines, unable to participate because of his shyness. At other times, when he was working he was bold and assertive and fully in charge. Right now she didn't care about any of that. She would rather have him on these terms even for a little while and just maybe he would come to see that their relationship was not a cage but a place of sharing; that there was more to their relationship than the physical chemistry between them. She prayed with all her heart that this would happen because she knew without a doubt that as long as she lived there could never be anyone else for her.


	26. Chapter 26

"Ellingham!"

Martin turned to see Arthur Braithwaite walking towards him in the corridor near the surgical floor. What now, he wondered. Not more fundraising or any other such rubbish he hoped. He knew it was important to the cause but he disliked it and didn't think he was very good at it.

"Braithwaite." He greeted and waited for him to speak.

"A great success at the conference, old boy. You had them eating out of your hand." He slapped Martin on the back. "Don't know how you do it but they all open their wallets when you're in attendance, make no mistake."

Martin frowned. "Well I don't know about that." He felt uncomfortable when Braithwaite made this sort of comment. It normally heralded a 'request' for him to attend or present something. He scowled. It might be good for the cause but it took him away from his actual work.

"Well you definitely have something that works well. We got a handsome donation from the Farrells – Barbara Farrell wrote a very nice covering letter about you – seems you made a good impression on her." He chuckled. "And there were two other decent contributions from the States amongst others." Martin frowned. He might not see eye to eye with Americans all the time but they were generous and he supposed he ought to amend his behaviour. But not with Caleb Farrell. Farrell was an arse and he would still like to punch him in the face.

"I bet your lovely companion had a lot to do with our success too Ellingham."

Martin frowned - careful Braithwaite he thought.

"Kate is charming. Lucky you, I say." He looked at Martin and wondered how this taciturn and unfriendly looking man could persuade such a beauty to accompany him anywhere. So did Martin. He still couldn't believe that she wanted to be with him and make love to him. And as if thinking about her made her materialize, she appeared at the end of the corridor deep in conversation with another nurse. She hadn't seen them yet. His eyes were riveted on her. She looked so beautiful with her hair tied up in a ponytail, exposing her beautiful neck. He remembered how it felt to bury his face there and how she hummed with pleasure when he ran his lips down her soft skin. He was jolted out of his reverie when Braithwaite spoke.

"Ahh…I see the lady in question." He was looking to where Kate stood at the end of the corridor. "She's a real beauty," he said again and turned to look at Martin and couldn't believe the expression he saw on his face. Besotted came close. The man was in love - no doubt about it. Well well…the ogre had a heart after all. He hoped for his sake Kate reciprocated the feeling.

"Just to let you know Ellingham, there is a fundraiser in Durham at the end of this month. It coincides with the conference on cardio-vascular diseases at the University – you will already be going and it would be beneficial if you could attend the dinner after you've delivered your lecture. Bring Kate with."

Durham. Yes…he would like that. He would ask her when next he saw her.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The next day was Saturday and in the evening Martin and Kate sat together at the little dining table in Kate's flat. She had made a delicious meal consisting of a light prawn curry and basmati rice. There was fruit salad and yoghurt or ice cream for afters. He had yoghurt and she had ice cream. He looked pointedly at the ice cream and was just about to say something about the sugar content but she looked at him across the table as if she knew _exactly_ what he was about to say and her eyes challenged him as she put a spoonful in her mouth. "Mmm… _delicious_ ," she purred. He realised that she was teasing him and for the first time in his life he knew that it wasn't malicious, unlike the teasing he'd endured throughout his schooling. He gave a slight shake of his head and his mouth twitched. "It will catch up with you Miss Rushton – too many calories will eventually spoil that beautiful figure of yours." He coughed self-consciously as he realised what he'd just said.

"Martin Ellingham…I do believe that that was a compliment." She tapped the spoon lightly against her lips. "And there I was thinking that you hadn't noticed my 'beautiful figure'...I'm very flattered."

And now she was flirting with him. And it felt good. He wanted to say he noticed everything about her. He looked at her with her laughing eyes and playful expression. Say it. Tell her she's beautiful. Say it Ellingham. But the words remained trapped. When he was in her arms it was easier to say things, but when she was looking at him across the table he couldn't. Why was that? You're such an idiot.

After they'd tidied up, they sat on the sofa with only the soft light from a lamp in the corner illuminating the sitting room. Kate had put some music on and she cuddled against Martin. He had his arm around her and she felt his hand lightly caressing her shoulder. She closed her eyes and imagined being like this with him every night, every day for the rest of their lives. It made her heart swell.

The next track started playing and she sat up and tugged at his hand. "Dance with me."

He looked bewildered. "Ummm…"

"Come on…" She pulled him to his feet as the gentle harmonies of the song filled the room. She unbuttoned his jacket and slipped it off his shoulders and he let it drop onto the sofa and she admired his trim figure and narrow hips. He was gorgeous. He put both his arms around her and pulled her close. _Tonight you're mine completely, You give your love so sweetly…_ " Kate slid her arms around his neck and stroked his hair. They stared deeply into each other's eyes as they slowly swayed to the music. _"Tonight the light of love is in your eyes, But will you love me tomorrow…"_

Always, he thought. Tonight her eyes were more green than grey and they were soft and filled with...what? He didn't want to hope. If only she would say something to indicate how she felt about him. Something that would give him a sign that she wouldn't reject him if he told her how much he loved her. _So tell me now and I won't ask again, Will you still love me tomorrow…"_

She pulled his head down and their lips touched, so gently, so tenderly – and they shared soft little kisses, light as feathers. He dipped his head lower and buried his face in her neck as he enfolded her in his arms, their bodies moving slowly together. She loved the feeling of him, the smooth skin of his cheek against hers and the clean scent of him. Every part of her body was alive to him, alive to his touch. And when the song ended she took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand in front of him and he buried his face between her breasts and she stroked his hair.

Kate was overwhelmed with emotion when they made love. Gentleness seemed to pour out of Martin - his touches were infinitely tender and she surrendered herself to him as he drew her higher and higher. He cried her name like a drowning man as he reached the point of no return and he clung to her afterwards, not wanting to let her go. She stroked his hair and held him close until she heard his breathing subside and he lay beside her, holding her tenderly until they both drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she woke early. Martin's arm was around her waist, his leg between hers. She looked at his face as he lay sleeping beside her…he looked relaxed, the frown absent from his brow. She saw the faint stubble on his chin and was tempted to run her hand over it but she let him sleep.

When he woke a little while later he immediately pulled her closer as if he was afraid she would disappear. She smiled at him. "Good morning handsome."

He grunted.

"And what's that supposed to mean, mmm?" She pecked him on the cheek. "Is that caveman-speak for good morning Kate?"

His mouth twitched. "Mmm – no – it's caveman-speak for good morning beautiful," he said running his fingers along her cheek.

Kate laughed and sat up so she could look at him. "Very good Martin. I like to hear you say things like that...I like it very much..."

It was a long while before they got up and dressed. And once they were, they went for a drive and ended up near Windsor where they stopped for lunch and then went for a walk in a park next to a lake. Kate slipped her hand into his and he didn't withdraw. He just looked down at her then continued walking. Another small step Martin was taking in becoming a little bolder.

When they were back in the car he said, "Kate, I'm going to Durham at the end of the month for two days…more lectures." He looked at her. "There's another dinner on the Friday evening. Would you come with me?"

She smiled and said she would love to go with him. "Good," he said and pressed a button on the steering wheel and music began to play.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **The song is the Bee Gees version of Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.**


	27. Chapter 27

The following week Kate hardly saw Martin at all. He was away in Cambridge for three days and on his return his schedule was full. Kate was no less busy. She had to attend a two-day refresher course as well as attend to her normal duties. Martin surprised her by phoning her mobile on the second night he was away. She'd asked him to let her know how he was getting on but she never really expected him to call- a text message maybe but he was not one for talking at the best of times so a phone call was a surprise. She was so pleased to hear his voice. He was fine. Yes the procedure and lectures had gone well. He had a final session in the morning and a lunch with some colleagues then he'd be on the late afternoon train back to London. Kate loved the sound of his voice even though his conversation was minimal - almost stilted. At least he'd called. She suggested they meet for supper after work the day after his return. His place? Fine.

"Good night Martin," she'd said, "I miss you." And after a long silence he said "Yes. Umm…good night Kate." And she marvelled at how much could be packed into that one little word 'Yes.'

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin sat at his desk going over some lab and radiology reports for a patient he'd operated on earlier that day. Everything looked normal – there was nothing that needed any further follow up. It was getting late and he was hungry. He would stop at the little bakery on the way home and get some fresh bread to have with a light supper. Kate had said she could only join him later. She was running late because of a last minute procedure and the paperwork always took up time.

He was just tidying his desk when the door to his consulting room opened and he looked up expecting to see Kate. But his eyes widened in shocked surprise when he saw Lara Perkins standing there. He hadn't seen her in almost a year. He'd heard that she had transferred on contract to another hospital and it had been a relief to him. She'd become quite emotional when he'd told her that he wouldn't see her anymore and it had made things extremely awkward.

She was a pretty woman and the way she'd thrown herself at him had been very flattering. In a moment of weakness he'd eventually accepted what she so plainly offered but it was purely a physical arrangement. He'd seen her a few times but he'd made it quite plain from the beginning that there would be no strings attached and she'd seemed happy with that. Then one night after they'd had sex, she'd told him that she loved him. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him. He'd decided not to see her again. Late one evening she'd come to his rooms and confronted him…asked him why he was brushing her off and he'd gently but firmly told her that he was flattered but he didn't feel the same way and it was best that they didn't see one another anymore and she'd cried and clung to him. It was embarrassing and highly emotional and he'd had to tell her several times that it was over.

And now she was back and standing in his office.

"Martin?" she walked closer and he stood up from behind his desk.

"Lara." He looked at her - his face set in a forbidding expression.

Her eyes searched his face for any sign of affection but found none. He frowned deeply and was just about to speak when she said, "I've been away."

Martin didn't know what to say. He felt deeply uncomfortable. "Yes."

She stepped closer. "Can we talk…maybe see each other later?" He just stared at her. "Please Martin."

He felt sorry for her. If she felt about him the way he felt about Kate, he knew she must be dying inside right now and he couldn't be cruel about it. The truth was that he felt nothing for her except maybe gratitude - gratitude that he'd been able to find some measure of physical release with her - but that was all.

He remembered something his old friend Chris Parsons had said when they were junior doctors at St Thomas's. "Keep your dalliances uncomplicated Mart – find someone who's as career driven as you - who won't want to tie you up in knots just because you sleep together." Sage advice. Over the years he'd had relationships with a few colleagues who were also strictly no-strings-attached types of women. They wanted sex with no emotional ties and that suited him but it wasn't exactly a fulfilling experience and he'd found he wanted to participate less and less. With Lara, more than ever, he understood what Chris had meant. And yet with Kate it was so very different.

"Please Martin say something."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry Lara…"

"I just want to see you…whenever you want...however you want."

Martin thought her neediness demeaned her. "No…it's not possible." His face looked grim as he frowned down at her.

She came closer and he backed up but he realised his desk was right behind him. She stepped closer and slid her arms around his neck. "We had something didn't we?"

He went rigid and tried to ward her off. "No we _didn't_." He put his hands up to try and pull her arms away but instead she pulled his head down and put her lips to his.

He jerked his head back. "What are you _doing_?" But she stood on tip toe and tried to kiss him again. Martin twisted his head just as he heard a sharp intake of breath. He looked towards the door and saw Kate. Her face was chalk-white as she looked disbelievingly at them.

Lara was still clinging to him unaware of Kate's presence. Martin felt his heart sink as he saw the expression on Kate's face and heard her say, "Martin?"

"Kate…" He tried to extricate himself from Lara's embrace but she clung to him like a limpet as she looked towards Kate. Short of manhandling the woman and pushing her away forcibly, he was trapped. "For God's sake Lara _pull_ yourself together!" he ground out.

Lara! The air was punched out of Kate. She couldn't breathe. This was Lara Perkins. This was the woman Martin had made love to. Kate stared at them standing so close, Lara's arms around his neck. They must have stood like that before when they'd been together. Her heart felt like it was shrivelling in her chest. Her eyes were round and filled with hurt. She knew that she wasn't the first woman Martin had slept with but it still came as a shock to actually meet one of them - to know that he'd been attracted enough to this woman to be intimate with her - as they'd been intimate. And she felt something she'd never felt before. She felt a thick surge of jealousy welling up from deep inside her. It was powerful and ugly and unpleasant and it made her heart hammer in her breast as wild thoughts and emotions clamoured for attention. Had he made love to Lara the way he'd made love to her? Had he kissed her as deeply and tenderly as he'd kissed her? Did he still want her? Her thoughts raced - she couldn't bear it.

Martin tried to step around Lara but she held on to him. "Kate…please, it's not what you think."

Lara laughed, "Oh it's _very_ much what you think, _Kate_. Martin's just shy about it, aren't you darling?" She smiled coyly up at him.

Kate opened her mouth but she couldn't speak - the words choked in her throat. Instead she closed her eyes as tears started to gather and she tried not to imagine them together. She took a shaky breath and turned to go.

"Kate…please…wait." Martin tried to loosen Lara's grip but the woman was determined.

Kate shook her head. She couldn't bear it. She had to get away and get herself under control. She slowly backed away from them and fled.

Martin panicked. Oh God, what was going through her mind? He had to go to her. He wanted to run after her like a school boy and make her listen to him. But Lara was still clinging to him.

Eventually Martin managed to force her arms from around his neck. " _Stop_ it Lara…take your hands off of me."

Lara stepped back and looked up at him, jealousy marring her features. "Is _she_ the reason you're not interested now? You used to be."

His eyes were as hard as flint. "Please get it through your head – there never was anything between us…not like with…" he said and his face showed his anguish.

Lara's face hardened. "Not like with _her_ you mean?" Then she laughed. "Kate is it? You fancy yourself in love with her, do you?"

Martin hid his emotions behind a mask of indifference.

"She's going to take some convincing now that she thinks you're cheating on her." She laughed without any humour. "Good luck with that."

Martin's heart was crumbling. He couldn't bear to think of it. Kate's face had looked stricken and he wanted to go to her.

Lara looked at him – at his stony face and suddenly she wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her. "Quite the lover boy aren't you? My friends all thought you were gay or a virgin, you know. Well I set them straight on that score…It took a while but I finally got you into bed, didn't I? Won the bet with my mates because they all said it couldn't be done." She laughed. "You surprised even me – you're rather good in the sack."

"Bet?" Martin went cold.

"Yes…they bet me that I couldn't seduce you. Said you had a block of ice where your heart should be and you wouldn't be able to get it up." She smirked, "Like I said…it took a while but then I kind of liked being in bed with you…you're a real surprise package."

Martin looked down at her and then it sank in. Once again he'd been made a laughing stock - publically ridiculed. The most private and vulnerable elements of his life dragged out in front of people for their entertainment…for them to laugh and gossip over. What had she told them? Had she revealed everything about him – had they laughed at his physical neediness – his moment of weakness? He swallowed hard as humiliation welled up in him, choking him. He was back in boarding school with the laughing, sneering faces of the other boys in a circle around him again…making fun of his body, of his bed wetting, of his silence, of his unwillingness to fight back. Ellingham…Mommy's boy, Ellingham the Sissy, Ellingham the snivelling tosser. He felt nauseous and dizzy. Beads of sweat pearled on his brow. It was the story of his life. Nothing would ever change except that the faces in the circle were now older – they'd become the faces of his colleagues.

Oh God he couldn't handle this. He stepped away from Lara as if she had suddenly sprouted fangs and said in a voice choking with emotion. "Get out. And don't _ever_ approach me again – there's nothing more to be said. _Nothing_ …is that clear?"

Lara opened her mouth to say something but Martin rounded on her, his eyes burning with anger and something worse - utter despair. "Get… _out_."

He watched her leave, then hurried to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. He heaved as if his insides were tearing. And when he eventually stopped he felt weak and he had to lean against the wall until he felt able to walk properly again. Then he brushed his teeth and washed his face and, after turning off the lights he left his rooms and left the hospital and began to walk. It was dark and the weather was icy and wet. He didn't care. He needed to get away – to burn off this dreadful feeling that his life was once again sinking into the abysmal hell hole it had been before he met Kate. How was he going to survive that? How?

He tried to bring his emotions under control. He needed to see Kate, needed to be close to her, needed her comfort. But that was not going to happen. She was upset…she wouldn't want to see him. But he knew he had to go to her and look her in the eye and make her understand that he would never cheat on her. Even if she never wanted to see him again – he needed to tell her that. And if she didn't want to see him again – what then? He would be cut adrift from the only thing that meant anything in his life...that had ever meant anything in his life. He felt sick again. Kate. Oh God he had to see her.

He hailed a taxi and gave the driver Kate's address and it dropped him in the street outside her flat. He walked up to the entrance and looked for her security intercom and pressed the button. He heard it beep. Nothing. He pressed it again for longer. Still nothing. He felt almost panic-stricken. It was almost 8 pm. He stood in the cold wind with his shoulders hunched. He felt like battering the door down, something else he never knew he was capable of feeling. He began to pace up and down to keep warm – he would keep ringing the intercom until she answered. He would stay all night if he had to. Thank God he had no procedures scheduled for the next day. He walked a little way up the pavement with his hands shoved into his pockets. They felt like blocks of ice and he returned to the street door to once again push the button on her intercom. She didn't answer. Maybe she was not at home. God knows where she would be if she wasn't. She'd mentioned a friend – Jen, was it? But he didn't know anything about her. He felt a terrible heaviness inside and knew now what it felt like to be in the depths of despair.

A light drizzle began to fall. For a while he stood in the doorway but the rain came down harder and he looked around for somewhere he could take shelter. There was a bus shelter a little way up the street and he walked towards it, the icy wind tugging at his jacket. He took his mobile out of his pocket. He'd call her…ask to see her. What if she said no? She must think him to be so shallow. After all, if the situation had been reversed, what would he have thought? And now he did feel panic. Oh God Kate. He pressed the speed dial for her number - it went straight to voice mail. He left a message. _"Kate…it's Martin."_ His voice shook a bit. _"Please talk to me…please don't leave things this way."_ He disconnected. It sounded so lame. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and rubbed his hands over his arms to try and generate some warmth.

The street looked forlorn in the rain – all the parked cars were beaded with drops of rain, empty and cold while their owners were cosy inside somewhere. The street was deserted except for a lone figure hurrying down the pavement, head bent to ward off the wind and soaking drizzle. There was something in the way the person walked that made him pay attention. In the dark, with only the street lights casting their dim light on the wet pavements, his eyes were riveted as the person came nearer. It was Kate, he was sure of it. She was carrying a shopping bag, the hood of her jacket up over her head. He stood in her path to prevent her walking past him. She didn't see him until she was almost on top of him and looked up, alarmed at first but when she saw it was him, she stopped. In the soft light her face looked drawn and he could see that she'd been crying.

"Kate," he said softly. "Can we talk?"

She looked at him for a long moment. His hair was wet and drops of rain ran down his forehead and onto his cheeks. "What about Martin?" Her voice wasn't quite steady.

"About what you saw earlier."

Her chin lifted. There was no mistaking the hurt in her eyes. "And what do you want to tell me? That is wasn't what it looked like?" She shivered in the icy wind.

He was chilled to the bone as well and almost wet through. "Can we go inside and talk Kate. Please?"

She sighed and began to walk towards the entrance to her block. He followed – she hadn't said she didn't want him to.

After she'd opened the street door they went up the stairs to her flat and he followed her inside, closing the door behind him.

Inside it was warm and he watched as she took the scarf from around her neck and threw it over a chair, then her jacket. She turned on some lights in the sitting room and drew the curtains. All the while he watched her with his heart so heavy that it felt like he was sinking. He wiped the rain from his face with his handkerchief. His suit jacket was wet but he didn't care.

"So Martin...what is it you want to say?"


	28. Chapter 28

Kate stood looking at him from across the dimly lit room, her eyes searching his. Martin's face looked haggard. He rubbed a hand over his still damp hair and took a deep breath. "Kate…what you saw was _not_ what you think it was."

She closed her eyes. She could feel the tears building again. All she could see was Lara standing with her body against his, her arms around his neck and she wanted to scream at the almost physical pain the image caused her.

"I was not embracing her Kate. She was embracing me."

"And that changes everything?"

"Yes…it does…it does" He sighed. "The woman you saw was someone I…umm…I once…" he didn't know how to continue. Someone I once slept with…someone I once had sex with. Whatever he said was bound to upset her.

"I know who she is Martin."

Martin's eyes went wide and the blood drained from his face. "You know?"

She nodded.

"So you know about…about the…bet?" His voice cracked.

"Yes."

He closed his eyes…he couldn't bear to look her in the face. The humiliation was crushing. He fought the nausea that threatened to overtake him again.

Kate saw his utter misery. "Why was she in your rooms Martin?"

He took a deep breath and twisted the ring around his finger, "She came to umm…to ask me to see her again. I refused." His arms went to his sides and his hands clenched and unclenched as he tried to explain. "She tried to convince me…by…you know...and then you walked in and…" He ran a hand over his face. "I hadn't seen her in almost a year…I didn't want to see her…I _don't_ want to see her…" He looked at Kate with that frank and open gaze. "I want you to know that there is _nothing_ between us…there never was…" His eyes were soft as he said, "Not like with us…" He swallowed hard and stepped closer until he was just a few feet away from her. "Kate, I would never disrespect what we've shared together by cheating on you…I just couldn't. You mean too much to me." His eyes pleaded with her. "Please believe me. I don't think I could bear it if you didn't." His voice was almost a whisper, his words almost lost in the sound of the rain that had begun to pelt on the windows. He felt like he was dying inside. His beautiful Kate who had seemed to be almost within his reach now seemed to be receding and would soon be lost to him. He thought of a lifetime without her...he couldn't bear it...he wouldn't be able to endure it...Oh God please don't let this be happening.

Kate looked at him for a long moment. The whole incident in his rooms had happened so quickly and her reaction to it had been instant and devastating. She'd never experienced jealousy like that before and now as she looked at Martin standing across from her and saw in him the little boy drowning in his insecurity and fear, she suddenly realised just how destructive that emotion had been. It had hijacked her mind and her heart and twisted her love into something ugly. It had stripped her of her power to reason and, worst of all, it had made her doubt the man she loved, dominating her heart so completely that there was no room for trust. This wasn't how she felt about Martin.

From the time she'd met him she'd sensed an old fashioned integrity in him. It was a quality that had attracted her to him and the more she thought about it she knew he couldn't be anything less than truthful and forthright. Whatever else he was, he wasn't a liar. If Martin wanted to be with Lara he would have broken it off with her – he wouldn't keep two women dangling after him.

Even though she knew it must be so hard for him Martin's gaze never wavered. His eyes were earnest and open and so very, very sad. He stood with his hands at his sides; his shoulders stooped slightly as if the weight of defeat was forcing him down and as she looked at him Kate knew that she believed him. She slowly closed the gap between them and slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Martin gave a shaky sigh as relief flooded through him and he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. "Oh Kate…" he groaned softly.

For a long while they stood like that drawing comfort from one another and he savoured the feeling of her soft body against his. He felt such a rush of love and tenderness that it felt like it was flowing out of every pore of his body and he hoped that she would somehow feel it. He put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up so he could look into her eyes and what he saw gave him a little glimmer of hope that she cared. She'd cared enough to react to Lara the way she had...but it was also in the way she was looking at him now; the way she held him and the way she smiled tentatively into his eyes. Her lips were parted and she touched his face with her soft fingers. Just maybe there might be a chance that she could grow to love him as he loved her. Eventually.

He took her face between his hands and tenderly kissed her lips before he raised his head to look at her again and he knew he had to tell her how he felt. He would have to live with wherever it led but the moment had come. He looked down at her with deep tenderness and whispered so softly she could hardly hear him, "I love you Kate...with all my heart."

Kate's eyes widened and she pulled back a little so that she could look at him. His heart sank. His words were unwelcome. She was about to speak but he couldn't stop now. He gently put his fingers on her lips.

"Shhh…before you say anything let me finish." He brushed her hair off her forehead and his words came out in a rush, his voice shaking with emotion. "I know you're not ready to hear this…that maybe it's too soon…but what happened today has made me aware that I can't keep it to myself any longer." He put his arms around her and drew her close and his voice was deep and soft. "I love you, Kate…I have for a long time now. And I don't expect you to say or do anything about it. Nothing will change. I won't make demands on you. If anything I just want you to know that for however long you want to be with me, I will never cheat on you. You have my word. I love you and there could never be anyone else for me. Not ever." His hand shook as he cupped her face and bent to kiss her softly on the lips. "I love you more than my life." If his words of commitment drove her away his heart would break but it was out there now. His stomach was in knots as he waited for her to speak.

She looked up at him and her eyes glittered with unshed tears as she tenderly stroked his face in the way that made his heart melt. "I can't tell you how I've longed to hear you say those words." She slid her arms around his neck. "Oh Martin…I love you too…so very, very much - since the day we kissed in your rooms." She stroked his hair gently. "In Paris when we made love for the first time I have never felt such an overwhelming sense of belonging and I wanted to tell you then…but I wasn't sure of you – if you were ready to hear it."

Martin's heart felt like it was going to burst. He was overcome with emotion and he felt his eyes stinging. Kate lifted her hand and gently wiped away a tear as it rolled slowly down his cheek. "Oh my darling man," she whispered and pulled him close as she felt his shoulders begin to shake. She whispered words of love to him and stroked his hair as she rocked him gently. He clung to her as if his life depended on it and when he eventually lifted his head from where it was buried in her neck, she kissed him deeply and ran her hands down to his hips and pulled him closer, "I love you so much Martin."

He looked down at her, his eyes still shadowed with insecurity. She knew what he was thinking – that all of this would eventually fade away because he was unworthy of love - unworthy of her. She closed her eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. Eventually she took his face between her hands. "Look at me." He lifted his head and his eyes were soft and vulnerable. She stroked his cheek. "I want you to understand something Martin. I love you and my love is real. Nothing you can ever do or say will change that. Nothing…do you hear me? If I had another entire lifetime to try, I couldn't love you more. You are central to my life - you make me happy and if you'll have me I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I will never leave you." His eyes searched hers and she saw a little spark of hope there. "Yes Martin…believe it. You _can_ believe it because it's the truth. I love you with everything that's in me and I will always love you." She saw tears in his eyes again and felt his chest heave as he sank his head into her neck again and he began to sob and her heart broke for him. There was a lifetime of rejection and hurt in those sobs. As she cradled him she felt the tears well up in her own eyes and she made a vow that as long as she lived she would make sure this man felt loved and cherished every single day.

Kate cradled Martin in her arms until he became calmer. Her heart was filled with love for him and later, after they'd lain together in her bed for a long time taking comfort from one another, they made love and it was tender and gentle and this time they both said the words over and over, savouring the sound of it, pouring their love out so that they both felt themselves immersed in it. Afterwards, as they lay entwined together, both awash with deep contentment, he stroked her shoulder as she lay in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. "I've never known what it means to love someone. And no-one has ever loved me before. It's the most wonderful feeling," he said softly.

She leaned over and kissed him. "It _is_ the most wonderful feeling." She ran her hand down his chest and around his waist. "I want you to know that you are loved more than anything on this earth Martin Ellingham. You are an extraordinary man…so loving and passionate and I can't imagine life without you." She pecked him on the nose. "And I'm going to tell you that at every opportunity so you better get used to it." She lay down again and pulled him close. He felt her wrap her body around his and felt her soft hair on his chest and once again he could feel tears filling his eyes. This time they were tears of happiness.


	29. Chapter 29

It was Friday evening and The Golden Lion was packed to the rafters. It seemed like half of St Mary's staff were there letting their hair down and, as usual, Jen and a group of friends were ensconced at a long table, their drinks lined up in front of them. With them, holding centre stage, was Lara Perkins. She missed this crowd – they were always up for a few drinks and a good laugh and when she was with them she regretted her hasty decision to leave London more and more. After she'd been in Manchester a few weeks she'd found out that everyone knew about Ellingham dumping her. Kelly and Meghan had made sure of that. It had taken a while to get her head around what she really felt about him and when she did, she could have kicked herself for leaving London - for leaving St Mary's because she'd come to realise that she didn't really love Martin Ellingham. She loved his status. She loved his performance in bed. She loved his classiness…and his obvious wealth. But she didn't love him. He wasn't fun and he was so different on every level but if she had somehow managed to get him to marry her she would have been sorted for life. And then, if it didn't work out they could both have affairs on the side. Lots of her friends were doing that. After all, divorce was an expensive business. So now as she sat with her third glass of cheap house wine in front of her, she reveled in being back and being the centre of attention and pleased that her revelations about the 'Chief' had triggered such animated chatter.

Alan Peterson leaned closer, "So when you say he is good in bed…what _exactly_ are we talking about here Larzz? Technique, stamina, size…?" His speech was slightly slurred.

Dave Goodall looked at him, "You looking for some tips Peterson?"

"Not me…but you could definitely use some."

Lara laughed and said coyly, "Let's just say it's all of those things Al – in abundance. If he wasn't such a serious bugger he would be such fun in bed."

Linda shook her head. "I still can't imagine him having sex…with _anyone_. He looks like he doesn't even know what that is, never mind being good at it." She took a sip of her beer.

Lara looked at Linda. "Oh he's good at it - and we weren't even in a serious relationship. I can only imagine what he must be like if he's putting his heart and soul into it." She shook her head dreamily. "Wow is all I can say."

Linda smacked her lips. "Maybe I should give him a go then Lara - what do you say?"

They all laughed.

"Better start setting your trap now Linda...took me months before he went out for a drink with me...he's a bit slow when it comes to that."

Jen sat listening to the conversation and felt a twinge of discomfort. Kate had been out to dinner with Ellingham. She wondered where that was going. If she was embarking on any kind of relationship with him this wasn't the kind of talk she wanted to hear. Then she heard Lara say that she'd visited Ellingham the day before in his rooms. That got everyone's attention again.

"I thought he was going to die he looked so shocked to see me. Wasn't too pleased I can tell you that for nothing. Doesn't want his tidy life all messed up does he? So I thought I would try and snog him a bit – see if he was still interested in a bit of slap and tickle." Everyone was in stitches at this point. They could all visualise Ellingham with Lara all over him. "He was none too happy about it. And _then_ …blow me down if this woman doesn't walk in while I'm hanging on him and trying to kiss him and he freaks out and _she_ looks like someone sucked all the blood out of her face. She obviously didn't like what she saw and he…well let's just say that he sounded like a schoolboy caught in the act. _Kate…wait…please Kate…it's not what you think…"_ she mimicked in a deep, posh voice and everyone was roaring with laughter.

Alan's glass was half way to his lips when he paused. "Kate?"

"Yeah…Kate. Dark hair, pretty…haven't seen her at St Mary's before."

"Kate Rushton. New senior theatre sister in the research unit. Snooty bitch if ever there was one." Alan's tone was sour.

Dave smirked into his beer. "And he should know because he unsuccessfully tried his luck with her. She told him where to get off in the nicest possible way."

Lara teased Alan " _What_? Alan Peterson unsuccessful? You're losing your touch lad…who would have thought." Alan scowled and hunched down in his chair.

Linda chose that moment to tell everyone that she had seen Kate and Ellingham leaving a restaurant together a couple of weeks before – so maybe there was more to their relationship than people knew. Everyone started chattering about that possibility.

Jen was getting uncomfortable about where this was going. Kate was still her friend even though they didn't see much of one another.

Alan piped up, "Yeah and Ellingham tore a strip off me a while ago for flirting with Kate. Makes sense now. Normally he wouldn't give a toss. The arse."

Lara took a gulp of her wine. "Well I think I might have screwed up whatever was brewing between them…Kate looked like she was going to throw up on the spot – and he was just plain desperate. So maybe there is a gap for you with Kate after all Al."

Alan sat nursing the last of his beer - a sulky look on his face. Kate – little Miss Uppity. He wasn't used to being ignored. Every woman he pursued was charmed by him even if it went nowhere…but Kate? Now she was a different matter. She'd been disinterested right from the start…as if he was invisible. And then she'd told him to back off like he was some irritating schoolboy. And now it seems Ellingham had her attention. Bloody hell…that tosser? He downed the rest of his beer and went to buy another.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

On Monday Jen went through to the surgical wing to see if she could find Kate. She had to talk to her about Lara's gossip at the pub. If she hadn't already heard it was only fair that she knew that Lara had told everyone what had gone down in Ellingham's office.

Kate already suspected that something had happened. She had been getting looks from the scrub nurse, the anaesthetist, even the porters and from Alan Peterson – but then she always got looks from him. When Martin entered the theatre complex a little while later everyone was eager to see if he acted differently around Kate, but nothing was out of the ordinary. If they hadn't been told there was something between them they would never have suspected it. He grunted at her and she called him Mr Ellingham - same as always. The procedure went smoothly and he left without a backward glance - same as always. Everyone was most disappointed.

At his townhouse that evening as they sat on the sofa together after a light dinner, she asked Martin if he knew that Lara had been regaling everyone about her visit to him in his rooms. Martin had not looked pleased.

"Yes," he said, a dark frown on his face.

She looked up from where her head rested on his shoulder. "I don't care what she says Martin…but I do think that somewhere along the line we will have to speak to our line managers about…you know…our relationship. Well, I will have to anyway – you don't have a line manager as such do you? It's been almost a month that we've been together…really together I mean."

He grunted. He'd been thinking about that too. Technically, he reported to the Provost and to the Board - he would arrange a meeting during the week. He would also, as a courtesy speak to Arthur Braithwaite. There would be an assessment of whether their relationship impacted on patient care and if so, recommendations would be made as to whether one of them would have to move. He didn't like the idea that, at the discretion of management, Kate might be the one who could be transferred out of the research team. He would deem it a great pity as she was hands down the best theatre sister he had worked with in his three years on staff. The fact that he headed the research unit made it unlikely that he would be asked to transfer out. He felt uncomfortable with that. There were other hospitals that could accommodate his kind of research, but St Mary's was the best of the best. He would make a few enquiries. It would be unfair on Kate to have to be the only one to make that kind of decision about their career.

When he mentioned his plan to Kate she'd got _that_ look on her face – the one that told him she would brook no argument. "Martin, there is no way on God's earth that I would expect, or want you, to leave St Mary's. You founded the vascular research department, for goodness sake and surgeons of your calibre aren't to be found just anywhere…and theatre sisters can be found, so let's not jump the gun…let's just see where it goes first. We can take it from there, yes?"

He looked at her now as she rested next to him on the sofa. She looked relaxed with her legs curled under her and her cheek against his shoulder. Once again she had managed to persuade him to shed his jacket and tie. And it did feel comfortable. She loved to run her hands up his chest and inside his open shirt. He loved it too. She knew exactly how to make him relax and he loved her more every day. She stirred and ran her hand across his belly.

"Time for bed?" he asked softly. She already looked half asleep, her face soft and her lips pink and inviting. He pulled her gently so that she was lying with her head on his lap and they both instinctively raised their hands to stroke each other's faces. He smiled. How he loved her. He ran his hand over her breast and down to her thigh and she smiled up at him. "Someone's not ready to go to sleep yet."

"Mmm…" he said and continued to stroke her thigh. "Are you ready for sleep?"

In answer she sat up and straddled his legs, her knees either side of his hips and slid her arms around his neck. "I never want to sleep when you're around…I wonder why that is?" She leaned forward and her mouth found his in a long, gentle kiss that had them both breathing fast. "Upstairs Mr Ellingham – or I will have my way with you right here."

Martin's eyes were half closed – he had no doubt at all that she meant what she said. She had no inhibitions when it came to making love. He was the one that had to overcome his shyness about making love anywhere other than in the bedroom and he still wasn't comfortable with it – but once he gave himself over to her ministrations he was putty in her hands. And it was very satisfying. He ran his hands over her breasts and down until he could slip his hands under her jersey top. "I like the sound of that, Miss Rushton." And she smiled at him as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

It was a long while before they eventually headed upstairs.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

One evening a few days later as Kate was finishing up in her office in the theatre complex, she looked up to see Alan Peterson standing in the doorway. The way he was looking at her was insulting. His eyes roamed over her from head to toe, lingering the longest on her breasts. "I hear congratulations are in order."

Kate ignored him.

"You've snagged Ellingham. Well done. He's quite a catch...top man at St Mary's...wealthy. Good in bed, I hear. I bet he likes getting a bit of you whenever he wants it. "

Kate turned to him, her eyes flashing. "Get out Peterson or I will report you for harassment."

He laughed. "Report me? While you're f*#*ing the boss? I don't think so. I bet you haven't declared your relationship to management yet."

Kate was shocked at his crude manners. She was revolted by Peterson – he was everything she disliked in a man and his language was getting worse every time she saw him. He stepped closer and Kate backed away. She felt uneasy. There were very few people about in her part of the theatre complex at this time of the evening

"You think you're something special don't you? Too good for the ordinary folk around here. But you'll learn…Ellingham will dump you just like he dumped Lara Perkins. You can count on it. He is incapable of emotional attachment or so I have heard. A cold fish."

Kate stared at him as if he smelled like a sewer. "Get out Peterson and leave me alone."

He came closer and put a hand out to touch her face. Kate flinched back. " _Don't_ touch me." Her eyes flashed with temper.

His eyes went hard. "Why not? You're free enough with Ellingham?"

"What's the _matter_ with you? Your behaviour is unacceptable."

" _My_ behaviour is normal – you're the one that thinks she's so special." He stepped closer and now Kate was backed up against a filing cabinet. She became alarmed. Her temper was still simmering though and this helped her to keep her chin up and her eyes fixed on his.

All of a sudden he pushed her against the cabinet and ground his body into hers grabbing her jaw in his hand and forcing her face up to his. He tried to kiss her but she twisted sideways and his fingers dug into her face. She pushed but he pushed back and he laughed. "Come now Kate…"

"Get your hands off me you pervert." Kate struggled against him which he just found amusing. He tried to kiss her again and she shouted, " _Leave_ me alone!"

A voice from the door cut through to Kate's consciousness. "Good God what's going on here?"

Peterson let her go and turned around to see Jen standing in the doorway, a shocked expression on her face. "Alan! What are you _doing_?" She looked at Kate…she was pale and Jen could already see bruises forming on her jawline.

Peterson backed away. "Nothing…Kate and I were just having some fun."

"It didn't look like Kate was having fun at all. What the _hell_ Alan! Are you insane?"

It suddenly dawned on him that he had seriously overstepped the mark. "It was nothing - just a bit of fun." And he squeezed past Jen and left in hurry.

"Are you alright?" Jen came and put her arm around Kate. She nodded. She was shaking both from anger and shock.

"I don't think you're alright. I always thought Alan was an idiot but I never thought he was capable of this."

Kate touched her jaw gingerly. "He's always had it in for me ever since we met at the pub the first time and I told him to back off. He's made it his life's work to change my mind. Hasn't let up for a minute."

Jen looked shocked. "But that was months ago. I'm surprised you haven't reported him already." She looked intently at Kate. "You have to lay a charge against him Kate."

Kate hesitated.

"You _have_ to or he will think he can get away with this kind of behaviour. I'll back you all the way. What a _perve_!" She looked at the dark bruises on Kate's jaw. "Shall I get an ice-pack for you? It's starting to look nasty."

Kate shook her head. "I'll sort it when I get home Jen. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Are you seeing Ellingham?"

"Yes…this is going to be hard to explain." She said indicating her jaw.

"Yeah…and I hope he finds Alan and punches his lights out." She looked at her friend. "You're serious the two of you?"

Kate looked at Jen long and hard then she nodded and she was just about to speak when Jen said, "Don't worry Kate – I won't gossip about it. I just hope he doesn't use you and move on like he did with Lara. Because then I will punch _his_ lights out."

Kate smiled and her expression was soft. "No – it's not like that at all. He is…he…he's wonderful Jen. He is the most loving, gentle person." Jen's eyebrows went up. "Yes he really is…we love each other and we're slowly finding our way…and there are some decisions to be made about all of this…" She waved her hand indicating the theatres. "But yes…we are serious."

Jen smiled. "That's all I want to hear Kate. If he makes you happy and he's serious about you too, that's all that counts with me."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

When Kate eventually got to Martin's townhouse it was almost eight and dark. She let herself in and heard him in the kitchen. She put her things down and went through. He had made supper and was cleaning up, looking so gorgeous with his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up.

"Hello," he said, turning slightly as he rinsed his hands under the tap. He picked up a tea towel to dry his hands and bent down to kiss her - then his eyes widened and he dropped the towel. "Kate?" He tilted her face up so that he could look properly. "My God what happened? Let me look." Immediately he was in doctor mode. His eyes focused and his fingers gently touching the by now purple bruises on her jaw and neck.

She briefly explained what had happened and watched as Martin's face became grim, his eyes like chips of flint. "You must lay a charge with the hospital authorities Kate…yes?" He brushed the hair back from her face and bent his head to gently brush his lips across the bruises. Kate sighed and put her arms around his neck. "I suppose I will have to Martin. Although I don't like the idea of all the sordid consequences that will follow. There will be hearing after hearing."

"Peterson needs to be put in his place. He might have made a good surgeon one day if his narcissism didn't get in the way. Having a bit of an ego is quite normal for a surgeon but not like that. Clouds the judgement." He stroked her hair. "I will go and see him tomorrow."

"Oh Martin please don't. I don't want you dragged into this. I can handle it. Really I can - and Jen will be with me through it all." She ran her fingers through his hair. "But thank you."

He pulled her close and gently rocked her from side to side and his hand rubbed her back. "Will you tell me if you have any pain? I will get you something for it." He kissed the top of her head. "And will you tell me if the experience has…umm...if you want to talk or anything..."

She lifted her head and put her fingers to his lips. "I am fine Martin. As long as I am with you like this…I am fine."

His mouth possessed hers in the gentlest of kisses. "I love you Kate," he whispered."

She smiled up at him. "I love you too my darling man."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Apologies for the delay in posting. I think I set too frantic a pace by posting a chapter a day for the last month and it finally caught up with me (especially after the last two emotional chapters.) So I will have to set a more sedate pace from now on. But I will keep posting. Thank you so much for all the reviews, PMs and follows. You are all too kind. :)**


	30. Chapter 30

Felicity Colbert was a well-groomed, middle-aged woman whose demeanour was business-like but at the same time empathetic. She headed up the Human Resources department at St Mary's and Kate had obtained an interview with her almost the minute her request for a disciplinary procedure against Alan Peterson had landed in her in-box. When Ms Colbert had seen the bruises on Kate's face and neck she immediately asked if she would mind being photographed and they were filed along with her statement of events. She was also sent for a full medical examination. Jen was also interviewed and her statement put on file. Next would be an interview with Alan Peterson and how things unfolded would depend very much on his attitude.

Kate was impressed at how swiftly things were set in motion and how quickly the matter was resolved. Once Peterson had been read the riot act he'd been put on suspension and after consulting his own counsel he'd thought it prudent to request a transfer. Kate was asked whether she would like to file civil charges against him but she declined and the last she heard of him he'd applied for a position in Cardiff. She was pleased that justice had been swift and Martin was even more pleased that he didn't have to see Peterson again, because every time he did he wanted to do him bodily harm. It took everything in him to restrain himself.

During this time, Kate had also been to see her line manager regarding her relationship with Martin. This meeting was just as awkward as the disciplinary meeting had been. She'd made an appointment with her line manager, Jim Foley and when sitting opposite him she'd found it surprisingly difficult to share her private life with him - line manager or not.

He'd smiled at her and said, "So how can I help you today Miss Rushton?" As if she popped in to see him regularly.

Kate had put on her most business-like face. "I believe it is policy to inform management when you have formed a personal relationship with someone in the same department as yourself?"

"That's correct." Jim waited for her to continue. He was a kindly looking man, fortyish, short and painfully thin with a mop of blonde hair and thick spectacles. "It is policy, yes." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Well I have…formed a relationship."

Jim's mind was working overtime trying to guess who it might be. He knew Alan Peterson was out of the equation. Kate had started a disciplinary procedure against him and he was in serious trouble and would probably be transferred out. Dave Goodall was a possibility but he had more or less left the vascular surgical team to pursue general surgery so it couldn't be him. There was the other Dave – Dave Pollard, the anaesthetist but Dave was married – although these days that wasn't much of a deterrent. And then there was Kevin Law a physiotherapist who, as far as he knew, was engaged to a paediatrician at a private hospital in London. No…he couldn't see Kate with any of them. He also didn't think that Kate was gay so didn't even consider female partners. He gave up.

"Martin Ellingham."

"What about him?"

"I am in a relationship with Martin Ellingham."

To say that Jim was flabbergasted was an understatement and he wasn't quick enough to hide his surprised expression but to his credit recovered quickly. "I see – well…umm…thank you for letting me know. Yes well…the procedure going forward is that an assessment will be made to ascertain whether your relationship with…errr…Mr Ellingham impacts on patient care or on your working relationship with other staff."

"Yes and I am happy to go along with the process." She looked at him and wondered how quiet this would all be kept. Would the assessment be made in public? When she asked him he assured her that the initial assessment would be done _in camera_ with members of the management team. If it was deemed necessary, interviews would be conducted with key personnel in the research department to see if her relationship with Ellingham might impact on the efficient running of the surgical unit.

"I take it that the relationship is serious? That you see it as long term?"

Kate looked at him and smiled. "Yes Mr Foley, it is serious and it is very much long term."

"Well…I am very happy for you Miss Rushton. Have you announced anything…I mean is your relationship public knowledge yet?"

"No…and I would very much like things to be kept confidential for the moment."

Kate hoped that confidentiality was one of Jim Foley's strong points otherwise the hospital telegraph would be humming within minutes. And Martin would just hate that.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin sat opposite Simon Holden the Provost at St Mary's. They were in his office seated in easy chairs away from his desk, a tray of coffee on a table in front of them. They had been chatting about various topics ranging from the research unit to a series of lectures Martin was soon to give in York. Holden was nearing retirement age and in his prior dealings with him Martin had developed a great respect for the older man. He was an unassuming, intellectual man and he and Martin connected on many levels other than work related matters. Now as they sat over their coffee cups, their chat was all very civilized and gentile but eventually they had to get to the point of Martin's request for the meeting.

"So, what can I help you with Martin - much as I love your company I gather there is something on your mind?" Holden leaned forward and poured more coffee into his cup.

Martin cleared his throat softly as he put his own cup down on the table. "Simon, I am seeing someone…that is…umm…I'm in a personal relationship…umm…with someone in the research unit. I thought you should know."

There was a moment where Simon was unable to hide the surprise on his face but he quickly brought his expression under control.

"I see. Well that is good news indeed Martin. Very good. And this relationship…is it serious?"

"Yes."

"May I ask the name of the person?"

"Her name is Kate Rushton. She is the senior theatre sister in the vascular surgical team." Martin dipped his chin and gave a small cough.

"Ahh...yes…I have heard of Miss Rushton's excellent professional record." He looked at Martin sitting opposite him. On the surface he looked relaxed but the way he gripped the arms of his chair told another story.

"Yes…she is excellent. Best I have worked with in years. Which brings me to…umm…the issue of what the consequences will be of this…relationship…in the work place."

Simon steepled his hands in front of his mouth as he considered Martin's statement. "There is no clear cut course of action for such things Martin. Each case is considered on merit. In about sixty percent of cases it is deemed necessary to separate the parties in their working environment and in other cases, they carry on as normal. The major factors are that couples usually want to have the same time off on a regular basis – holidays etc. or work the same shifts, which is not always practical for the unit. And then there's the factor of domestic issues spilling over into the workplace…that sort of thing."

Martin was one of the most professional men Simon had ever met - focused to the point of excluding everything else from his professional life. Personally he could not see him letting a relationship interfere with his work or his dedication to his patients but it wasn't only up to him. Human Resources would have to be consulted and if necessary, interviews conducted with other members of staff and so on. He would also interview Miss Rushton. He had never met her personally and if he was honest, he was curious to see what kind of person had managed to melt Martin Ellingham's stony heart.

He looked at the man sitting opposite him. "I am really very pleased for you Martin. It is a wonderful thing when a man finds a life companion – it changes him and settles him in a way nothing else can." He saw the colour rise in Martin's cheeks but at the same time there was a hint of pride on his face and dare he say, he almost looked happy?

They stood up and shook hands. "I will get back to you Martin, once I have gone through the process – I will of course inform the chairman of the board and HR - no need to concern yourself with that. I assume Miss Rushton has initiated a similar procedure with her line management?"

"Yes."

They said goodbye and as the door closed Holden shook his head in wonder. The old adage 'never say never' was so true. Everyone had assumed that Ellingham was a confirmed bachelor – married to his work and yet, Martin had just sat in front of him and all but declared that he was in love. He smiled – he was genuinely pleased for him.

A few days later he met Kate Rushton and he could see why Martin had fallen for her. She was charming, poised, intelligent and beautiful. They spent forty minutes in conversation and he got her views on the research unit and her duties within it. He learned how she saw things going forward and he was pleased that Kate wasn't trying to defend or bargain for anything. She just gave the facts. She too brought up Martin's dedication to his work - his single minded focus when it came to his patients. "I just want to make it clear that if there had to be any changes to the team; I want to be the one that transfers out. I am quite happy to do that. Martin feels that it shouldn't have to fall on me alone but it would be a disaster if he were to leave. If my working in proximity to him creates any issues I will look for something else…and I would appreciate it if, for now, you didn't tell Martin that."

Simon once again sat and marvelled at how Martin, with his taciturn and brusque manner had managed to get a woman like Kate to fall for him – and she clearly loved him, there was no doubt in his mind. Her eyes softened when she spoke about him and her wish that he remain unaffected by any potential changes was genuine and motivated by her respect and love for him. It wasn't easy to give up a prime job like the one she had but she was willing to for him and that spoke volumes.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate looked at Martin as he lay sleeping next to her. As usual he was on his back with one arm flung up and the other on top of the cover. He had seemed restless earlier and somewhat distracted. When she'd asked him what was wrong he'd quickly replied 'nothing' and continued reading his BMJ or trying to read it in any case.

'Nothing'. Kate knew it wasn't true. She knew he'd been to see Simon Holden the previous day and she had told him about her visit to Jim Foley as well. They'd both said their meetings had gone well – now it was a waiting game for some feedback. And yet she sensed that Martin was not entirely present – as if he was deep in thought and unwilling to share those thoughts with her.

When they went to bed, they had cuddled but Martin had not seemed keen on taking anything further, so she'd kissed him gently and told him that she loved him and he'd said "Yes" and she stroked his hair until she heard his breathing slow and knew that he had fallen asleep.

The next morning he left at 5.30 am for early rounds. He'd kissed her goodbye and she'd gone back upstairs to shower and get ready for work. It worried her that Martin didn't seem himself. Was he getting restless? Did the interview make him uncomfortable with their relationship, especially now that outsiders knew for certain that they were together? Personally she didn't care what people thought but Martin had always been a very private man. It must be getting to him. He hated being the focus of gossip or attention of any kind.

When Kate arrived for work she was hyper aware of everyone around her. Could she pick up if any of them were acting differently? Jen had told her that her possible relationship with Martin had been discussed at the pub at one time, but that was a while ago and that attention had long since died down. As the morning progressed and she didn't sense any new curiosity she started to relax a bit. Management had so far kept it private just as they had promised.

When she got home later that evening, she prepared a supper of grilled fish and roasted vegetables and was setting the table when Martin came in. He looked tired…and worried. Kate walked across the kitchen and put her arms around his waist and looked up at him. "Hello handsome." She kissed his lips gently and he responded, putting his arms around her and holding her close.

Over dinner she was hoping that he would tell her what was on his mind but he was quiet and only mentioned his impending trip up to York in a few days' time. He would only be gone two days. These lectures were taking up a lot of his time lately but it was necessary and wonderful for him to be able to promote the methods he had pioneered and share the findings of his research.

After they'd tidied up, they sat on the big sofa and read for a while – he had the latest copy of the Lancet and she was reading a biography on George Eliot – she was one of her mother's favourite authors and Kate would take it with her when next she went down to Portwenn.

She was intensely aware of Martin as she sat curled up next to him. She glanced at his face as he concentrated on his article. He usually looked fairly relaxed when he was reading but tonight he didn't. Eventually she put her book down and leaned against him. She put her hand out and stroked his thigh and let her hand trail up, skimming over his zip and belt and to his belly where she worked her hand in between the buttons of his shirt so she could run her fingers over his skin. He lowered his magazine and looked down at her. His eyes were soft in the dim light.

"You're very distracting."

She leaned over and nuzzled his neck. "Is that such a bad thing?" Her hand travelled up his chest and began to unbutton his shirt. "I might be distracting but you seem very distract _ed_ lately." She sat up and put her hand up to stroke his face. "Is something the matter Martin?"

He frowned. "No."

"I'm worried about you – it's as if you have withdrawn from me a little. Are you worried about this whole assessment thing?"

He sat up straighter. "There is nothing wrong Kate. Nothing at all." His voice was a little curt and Kate sat back not knowing how to deal with this side of Martin. Should she pursue her line of probing until he spilled the beans or should she back off and let him come to her on his own? She felt confused and very worried. Martin had immediately resumed reading his journal as if she wasn't there.

Eventually she got up and said she was going to get ready for bed. It was a good half an hour before she heard him climbing the stairs – she was already in bed, curled up under the duvet. He went about preparing for bed and eventually she felt him slide in next to her. They didn't touch. Kate couldn't bear it. Something was wrong and she didn't know how to handle it…so she did the only thing that felt right. She turned to him and wrapped herself around him, hugging him close and felt him put his arm around her. She rested her head on his chest and gently stroked the smooth skin under his t-shirt. "I love you Martin…more than I could ever say."

He took a deep breath and pulled her to him so that he could look at her. "I love you too Kate…don't ever doubt that." She leaned up and her mouth found his in a slow and deeply loving kiss. "I won't."

But as she lay back her heart felt unsettled. She knew that Martin had many hidden sides to him. Sides that would take a long time to discover. From what Aunty Joan had told her, Martin's defence mechanism had been withdrawal and immersion in his studies. She could understand that. But if they were to have any kind of meaningful relationship going forward, they would have to come to some understanding of how to deal with times like this. What had triggered his withdrawal? Was he withdrawing purely to think and brood or was he withdrawing from her – did her presence stifle him and make it worse? Was sharing his space more or less permanently making him feel claustrophobic? It wouldn't be so bad if he came out and said that…that he needed time out. But his silence confused her…it made her feel insecure and she wasn't an insecure person. The last thing she wanted to do was push him further away…to make him feel pressured.

Since the day they'd declared their love for one another, they'd hardly been apart, mostly staying at his place but occasionally sleeping over at her flat. It was a time of getting to know one another, a time of adjustment and compromise. He was fastidiously tidy and organised, while she was inclined to leave her clothes in odd places around the house – a jersey here, a scarf there, a jacket over a chair instead of on the peg in the hall. She left books or magazines wherever she happened to be reading them…kitchen, sitting room, bedroom. Her shoes were another item that he found everywhere but where they were supposed to be. She had tried very hard to be a little tidier and he tried to be a little less grumpy about it when she wasn't. He was a creature of habit and she a lot more spontaneous and impulsive when it came to things like changing plans, going out or making love in the middle of the day. He was relaxing a bit on that front but she sensed that it was sometimes hard for him.

But even though there were many things that they both had to work on to keep the peace, there were just as many things that made them feel comfortable together as well. They both enjoyed physical intimacy. They both loved being in the kitchen together and she discovered that he was a really good cook and sometimes quite adventurous too. They loved to listen to music and read together. They were both comfortable with silence and quiet times…they didn't have to talk or try and entertain each other all the time. This silence however was totally different. This wasn't a comfortable silence. This was an unsettled silence and she didn't like it at all.

For now she decided to stand at a distance…to let him know that he was loved but give him the space he needed to kill his demons – whatever they may be. Kate just wished she could climb into the ring with him and help do battle instead of watching him from the sidelines.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin went up to York and was due back on the Friday of that week. But he called her on Thursday night and said he would now only be back on Saturday night. Something had come up. Kate could hardly hide her disappointment. She'd just have to suck it up.

She spent the time he was away at her own flat, cleaning and tidying up. She chatted to her mother who was in a busy phase of her latest book and was due to travel up to Scotland in the next few days.

The time seemed to drag until Saturday. Kate was already in bed when Martin arrived home late that night. She was so happy to see him, wrapping herself around him and kissing him soundly. Once he'd unpacked his suitcase he went to shower and joined her in bed sliding down next to her and pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head. "I missed you."

"I missed you too…wayyyy too much."

He looked at her and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I had some business to attend to – couldn't be put off."

She wanted so badly for him to elaborate what was so important that he'd spent an extra night away. But she held her tongue. He would say something if he wanted to.

She turned on her side and looked up at him. He was looking at her with a look she'd seen many times since they'd been together. He wanted her. Badly. He was almost possessive in the way he pulled her close and his mouth came down on hers in a hungry and demanding kiss.

She smiled at him and slid her hand under his t-shirt. "Someone's eager tonight."

He stopped and pulled back. "Don't you want to...?"

"Don't you dare stop…I want you more than you know."

Their lovemaking was intense and swift and drained them both. She lay on top of him and felt his heart hammering in his chest and his warm breath in her neck. A feeling of such love welled up in her and she stroked his face and kissed his lips gently. "Mmm…that was very, _very_ nice my darling man…I would suggest that you go away more often…but I miss you too much."

He smiled and stroked her hair from her face as she moved to lie beside him. He seemed a little more relaxed but she would see how he was in the morning. For now, she was content to lie in his arms and listen to his breathing become regular as he fell asleep.


	31. Chapter 31

In the days following Martin's return Kate could see that he was making an effort to engage more with her but he still wasn't a hundred percent himself. She would watch him staring at a page of his BMJ for ages and knew he wasn't reading – he was a fast reader and if he'd really been reading he would have turned the pages a number of times in that space of time. He didn't withdraw from her physically as he had done before he went away but she sensed a reserve in him and it made her more determined to make sure that they cuddled and touched often.

One piece of good news for both of them was that the management team at St Mary's had decided that they did not see a problem with them working in the same unit and they would set a three month trial period after which things would be reviewed again. So it was business as usual and they were happy about that. She had also had formal feedback from Felicity Colbert regarding Alan Peterson. He had been granted a transfer but was on probation and his disciplinary and the outcome of the hearing would be kept on his personnel file. Any further misdemeanours on his part could mean being struck off. Kate's final thoughts on the matter were that Alan Peterson had really shot himself in the foot career-wise and she was glad that he would be unlikely to appear in their orbit again.

The following Friday she and Martin went up to Durham together and the next day while Martin was conducting his lecture Kate explored the city. It was magnificent with the cathedral and castle dominating the skyline. It was a university city and although it was ancient it had a young, vibrant ambiance with all the students around. She spent a couple of hours in the cathedral - it was restful with a lovely settled feel to it and the grounds were beautiful with the river Wear flowing below.

The dinner that evening went well Kate thought, except for one point where Martin's temper had boiled over and he'd laid into a rather pompous academic who felt it necessary to continually challenge Martin's research with points that had already been dealt with in previously published papers. His voice was loud enough for the whole table to hear. Martin had at first politely countered his points but after the second and third when the man had looked superciliously at Martin expecting a defensive answer to what he'd thought was a very clever question, Martin fixed him with one of his famous stares. "You are ill informed Mr Sutcliffe. I thought you were an academic. Where I come from academics are required to stay current - if you had bothered to read all the literature already published on this research before you sprouted off such nonsense you wouldn't be sitting here making an idiot of yourself - would you?" The man had blustered and gone red in the face. Kate could see Martin was just about to launch into a further tirade - his brows almost met over his nose and his eyes were like chips of flint. She quickly put her hand on his arm and rubbed gently and said that the orchestra was playing such a lovely tune and would he dance with her? He'd looked down at her and immediately stood up and muttered loud enough for Sutcliffe and those sitting close by to hear, "Utter moron." Kate hooked her arm through his and ushered him forward and without a backward glance he escorted her to the dance floor. They'd left the other guests at the table speechless while Arthur Braithwaite and a visiting vascular surgeon from Johns Hopkins struggled to control their mirth at Martin's superb dressing down of one of the most pompous academic snobs known in British medical circles. He was glad however that Kate had managed to prevent Martin really ripping into Sutcliffe. Martin's tongue could be very scathing and his reputation for an eloquent insult was well known.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The following week seemed to fly by. Kate and Martin worked together twice and it always gave her a little shiver when their eyes locked briefly and his seemed to soften above his surgical mask. But he just as quickly turned his attention back to what he was doing. The hospital grapevine remained silent when it came to their relationship and Kate was pleased that management had kept their promise of confidentiality.

They both had the following weekend off but the weather was so awful that they opted to stay in on the Saturday. Martin sat in his study working on his latest clock. It was a challenging piece and had required him having to get some small parts custom made. He'd struck up a hobbyist's relationship with a man in Reading who manufactured parts such as the ones he required and was pleased that they had arrived by courier in that week. It meant that he would be able to finish this one in another two sessions.

He looked up through the open doorway to see Kate stretched out on the sofa, absently twirling a strand of hair as she read a book that was clearly amusing her. She was smiling and her shoulders shook every now and then. It was nice to see her like that. The last few weeks had leeched the smile from her face - and it was all his fault.

Openly speaking to others about his relationship with Kate had suddenly unlocked his feelings of inadequacy again. Both Simon and later also Ralph Smith-Finn, the Chairman of the Board, had exhibited such expressions of incredulity on being told that he was in a serious relationship with someone, as if it was a miracle that he'd found anyone who could love him. He thought so too. How could it be true – how could someone really love him? Deep down, he just could not believe it. And once he'd opened himself up to doubt all the old demons flooded back in their multitudes.

He knew that he'd upset Kate. He'd retreated into a place he found difficult to leave unless he could push his thoughts of inadequacy into the proverbial Pandora's trunk and squash the lid closed. The closer he got to Kate and discovered what a spontaneous and affectionate person she was the more he started to doubt his ability to make her happy. He was convinced that once she discovered that he was always going to be a difficult person – quiet, grumpy and set in his ways, she would surely grow bored and the shine would disappear from their relationship. His logic told him he couldn't know that for sure but it was almost as if he was pre-empting the inevitable. It was the story of his life. He always prepared himself for disappointment - because it was always bound to come if he got his hopes up too high.

He didn't doubt that he loved her. Not for a second. He loved her completely. But he doubted his suitability for her – he doubted his ability to ensure her happiness. His sudden withdrawal had confused and upset Kate and rightly so, but even knowing that she was confused he still found it impossible to share his fears with her – it would expose his weakness and neediness. She'd said, all those months ago, that nothing he could do or say would ever stop her loving him. And she'd honoured her promise over these last couple of weeks. She'd never let her frustration or worry come between them, always showing him love and affection even when he found it difficult to believe it was a truly lasting thing.

He realised that if he wanted to maintain what was between them he would have to open up to her. He would have to speak about his fears. He found that terrifying. It would expose all the parts of himself that he disliked - that made him sweat and cringe. What if it made her see him through another lens? Through a lens of contempt - or worse, of pity.

When he'd been in York he'd spent the time between meetings on his own. He'd needed to be alone – away from his colleagues and he'd taken the time to walk the streets and one afternoon he'd sat in the Minster while a choir rehearsed just so that he could think. Could he make Kate happy in the long term? Could he continue with the relationship, knowing that there were parts of himself that he withheld from her? And because he held back she could never really know the real Martin Ellingham – it wasn't honest and it wasn't fair. So he asked himself again - could he make her happy?

Happiness was such a loaded word. It was the holy grail of all life's conditions – but what did it mean? Someone else's happiness had never been his responsibility - it was something he'd never had to consider before. Kate had changed all of that. She'd brought him to a place that made it important because for once in his life there was another human being that he cared about more than his own life. He owed it to her. She gave so much of herself to him – unreservedly. And it scared him - scared him that he didn't have the capacity to offer her the same.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice Kate come in until she put her arms around him from behind and kissed him just under his ear. A little shiver went through him. It didn't matter how many times she did it, he always reacted the same way. He turned to her and pulled her down onto his lap. Her eyes smiled softly into his and she kissed his lips gently. "You were far away just then Martin."

"Mmm…" and his mouth lifted in the smallest of smiles. He could sit and stare into her eyes all day – because in them he found warmth as if she was pleased to see him, pleased to touch him and be with him. He drew her close and kissed her so gently and so slowly, communicating all the tenderness he felt in every fibre of his being. "I love you Kate," he said as he stroked the hair from her forehead. "Don't ever doubt that."

Her eyes searched his as she sat in the circle of his arms. "That's the second time you've said that Martin." She stroked his cheek gently. "Do you think I doubt that you love me?"

He looked at her for a long moment, the way he did when he was thinking deeply. He took a deep breath, "I've upset you…in the last while. I'm sorry Kate." He struggled to continue. "It's just that sometimes I don't know…umm…why you…umm…want me." He swallowed hard. "And I don't know if I can make you happy – in the long term. And it scares me. Sooner or later you will grow tired of me - I am not an easy person to be with."

Kate looked at him long and hard then she slid off his knee and stood up. "Get up Martin."

He looked up at her - her eyes were narrowed. He knew this meant trouble. He got up slowly.

She squared up in front of him, her eyes sparking and she poked him in the chest with her finger. "I'll tell you what I might grow tired of Martin Ellingham. I might grow tired of you always doubting me…of you trying to second guess how I feel about you. I might grow tired of you never trusting me fully and not sharing your concerns with me - but I will _never_ grow tired of you." She took his face between her hands. "I don't for a moment doubt your love for me Martin…so either I am not showing my love for you enough, or you think I am pretending to love you." She stroked his cheeks and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I am not pretending Martin. I love you – this isn't a game for me." She ran a hand through his soft hair. "Let me in Martin. I want to be fully part of your life just as I want you to be a part of mine – _every_ facet of it - good or bad. That's what love means – taking the good and the bad and making a deeper love flow from it."

She slid her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes that still seemed so vulnerable. "So let me say this once more…I love you my darling man…every gorgeous inch of you…every grumpy frown and every little smile. And when you're ready, I want you to give me your trust. Trust me to hold your precious heart and never let it go...because I won't." She pecked his mouth. "If you want to know what will make me happy - _that_ is what will make me happy." She kissed him gently then pulled back a little and narrowed her eyes again. "Now sir…would you like to call my bluff and see what would happen if you carry on doubting me?"

He smiled and his eyes were soft and his voice deep with emotion. "Umm...maybe not…" He stroked her face with the back of his fingers and his eyes reflected all the love that was in him. "But I would like to see what would happen if I did this…" And his mouth came down on hers in a slow and deeply sensuous kiss. Kate wound her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his soft hair. Their kiss deepened and it wasn't long before they went upstairs – shedding bits of their clothing along the way. And it was a long, long while before they fell into a contented sleep in each other's arms.


	32. Chapter 32

Summer gave way to a wet and cold autumn in London but parts of it were beautiful with the trees sporting their magnificent autumn colours. Martin and Kate would often walk in one of the many parks near to their home to enjoy the colourful beauty with russet leaves carpeting the paths and the remaining leaves on the trees seeming to light them up with their golden glow.

Kate had now permanently moved in with Martin and they seemed to have found a balance to domestic life that suited them both. She loved being with him…loved the companionship that slowly grew as they found their way with one another.

One thing Kate discovered early on was that Martin needed a lot more time on his own than she'd first thought and she was happy just to watch him while he pottered with his clocks or read or wrote a paper. It wasn't that he wanted to be alone as such but he needed quiet time much more than she did. Even though he needed solitude it didn't mean that he didn't want her there and she would often see him looking around to see where she was or he'd come to find her when he was ready and then he would give her his undivided attention.

As far as possible they cooked and ate all their meals together and often sat in the evenings and read or listened to music together, each getting a turn to choose the playlist. There were predictably some animated debates as far as the lists went but they were both tolerant and learned a lot from each other. He enjoyed her choice of classical music but occasionally she chose a more contemporary playlist, saying that it would be nice for him to experience some of the 'classic' pop and rock music because there were some really good bands with good albums out there. He'd dipped his chin and looked skeptically at her, "No really Martin - it's like, how would you know what chocolate tasted like if you didn't try it? And if you didn't try it you'd miss out on the pleasure of enjoying chocolate forever because you were reluctant to try it." Martin's eyebrow had gone up. "OK maybe chocolate wasn't such a good analogy but you know what I mean." Martin sat through a few tracks but she could see he was struggling – it would take a while before he would get used to David Gilmour or Coldplay – but bless him, at least he tried. She was also not a fan of Shostakovich or Bartok which he sometimes included on his playlists but she also persevered and when she was cuddling in his arms while they listened, she could tolerate just about anything.

Neither of them brought up the subject of where their relationship was headed. They were content for now to share each other's space, learning where their boundaries were, sharing the everyday things of domestic life together – who was doing the shopping, what their menu was going to be for the week, who was putting a wash on, who would collect the dry cleaning – and it worked for them with the minimum of fuss. When either of them was working late, the other picked up the slack and prepared dinner. They discussed their working schedules and planned outings. Kate learned that Martin liked structure...with everything, well almost everything but she sometimes dug her heels in and persuaded him to follow some of her more impulsive whims. Like late one Sunday morning she'd said she wanted to go to a concert in the park that afternoon. He'd frowned and said they hadn't planned on going and where were they going to sit and what if it rained? And she'd countered all his arguments and they'd eventually gone and they'd had a lovely time. He still kicked against these impromptu outings but he was less grumpy about them and she didn't force him to do anything she knew he wouldn't enjoy.

Sometimes when he came home she could tell that he'd not had a good day and she would ask if he wanted to talk about it. Mostly he wouldn't but occasionally he would mutter something about the "utter incompetent morons" at work or a "stupid, brainless idiot" when referring to a patient. One evening he grumbled about the "air-headed, vacuous registrars" whose sole purpose in life it would seem, was to spoil Martin's day. After that particular rant, she'd looked across the dinner table at him and said innocently, "air-headed and vacuous…that's a new one. Technically they're the same thing but yes...that's good."

He'd frowned and stared at her. "New? Good?"

"Yes – I haven't heard 'air-headed' or 'vacuous' before and I usually get to hear all your latest expressions."

He'd looked puzzled as she got up to clear the plates from the table.

"Your ward rounds are quite entertaining I hear Martin. Your sayings are referred to as Ellingham-isms and are graded on a scale of 1 to 10 - although I believe your insults are never mild enough to merit below 5."

He'd looked taken aback and grumbled about the "utter silliness" of some people and his frown had deepened and didn't leave his face until she crooked her finger at him. "Come here gorgeous," and he'd got up and slowly walked across the kitchen to stand in front of her where she leaned against the counter. She'd gently grabbed his tie and pulled him closer, "No frowns Mister. This is a frown free zone...understood?"

"Mmm…understood..." He'd put his arms around her and gathered her close to his body, his hands roaming down her back to rest on her bottom as he gently pushed her against the cupboard. His expression told her that he wanted her. His eyes were half closed. She knew that look and knew it wouldn't be long before they were upstairs and in each other's arms. But as he nuzzled her neck she thought she'd tease him by suggesting that because he was so eager they should make love right there. He'd looked down at her and there was a little smile on his lips as his hands slid up over her hips and up to her breasts where his fingers began to unbutton her shirt. She pulled his head down until their lips met in what started off as a gentle kiss but was soon on fire. It seemed that Martin was about to call her bluff - her man was coming out of his shell and she adored him for it.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate stepped out of the little second-hand bookshop into glorious autumn sunshine and on a whim decided she would walk the rest of the way to St Mary's instead of catching a taxi. She looked at her watch - there was still just over an hour to go before she had to be at work so there was plenty of time. Her mood was buoyant now that she'd seen the book. It was a great find – an out of print copy of a book on antique mantel clocks in excellent condition and she was sure that Martin didn't have it – she'd checked his bookshelves in his study. Martin's birthday was coming up in a month's time and this was supposed to be part of his present but she knew that he would just love it and was tempted to give it to him when she got home later. He was sometimes like a little boy when it came to his hobby – never overtly excited of course but his eyes lit up and he became so earnest when he explained something about the clock he was working on. Kate wasn't particularly interested in their mechanisms but they were beautifully made pieces and she appreciated the craftsmanship and intricacy of them but not to the same degree that Martin did. Even so, she could sit and listen to him talk about them or watch him working on them all day because it made him happy.

Kate stepped it out at a brisk pace - it was lovely to be out walking in sunshine instead of dodging the incessant rain London had experienced over the past fortnight and she wasn't the only one thinking that. There seemed to be hundreds of pedestrians thronging the pavements. Eventually she turned into the long road leading to St Mary's. Not too far now. She thought of Martin's birthday again and wondered if she should book at a nice restaurant as a treat – or maybe a concert at the Royal Albert...or both. She'd look at the programme on the internet when she got a gap. It was her own birthday in a week's time and Martin had asked her what she'd like to do and she'd said she would like to go to their special little Parisian restaurant because it reminded her of their first dates together. But for his birthday she wanted to do something different – he wasn't keen on surprises but she was sure he wouldn't mind a concert or her choice of restaurant.

Kate stopped at a busy intersection, joining a group of people waiting to cross the street. She never got used to the amount of traffic in London - it just never seemed to stop, day or night. She hefted her small backpack a little higher on her shoulder – the book, though not all that big, added quite a weight to it. The little group waited patiently and, in typical London fashion, didn't make eye contact with anyone else – everyone stared straight ahead or looked at their phones. In Truro people would at least acknowledge you with a brief nod, one that discouraged any talk but at least it was something. Londoners seemed to create a personal bubble of space around themselves that warded off any contact at all and, unless you were dying or doing something particularly mad, it was unlikely that you would get any attention even though the streets were crowded with people. Kate always assumed that Londoners were like that because the city was packed with tourists, most of them lost and looking for directions – so Londoners put up their barriers to distance themselves from potentially being accosted at every turn.

She smiled at her crazy theory as she waited for the pedestrian light to change and as it did she stepped forward then swore under her breath when her scarf fell to the pavement. She quickly stooped to pick it up then hurried to catch up with the others just ahead of her. Kate got about half way across when she heard a loud roar and felt a tremendous blow to the side of her body. She registered that she'd been hit but not by what. Strangely she felt no pain after the initial impact. Everything became surreal. She heard someone scream but didn't know if it was her own voice she heard. Everything was happening in slow motion. Somewhere, dimly she was aware that she was airborne and in that split second before she hit the ground her thoughts were crystal clear – they were of Martin and the terrible sadness she felt that she might never see him again…and then everything went black.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	33. Chapter 33

The A&E was the impossibly busy centre of madness it always was at any given moment. Jen, who was the senior nurse on duty, had received advance warning of an RTA – a pedestrian knocked down just up the road from St Mary's and Jen thought that one could hardly choose a better place to have an accident than that.

It wasn't long before the ambulance medics were pushing the gurney through the automatic doors and into the triage area of the A&E. One of Jen's immediate jobs was to assess the patient and channel them so they received the appropriate care for their level of injury or illness. She quickly guided the medics to a curtained off area and they pushed the gurney into place. They went through the hand over procedure - one of them held a clipboard and gave Jen the background. "Pedestrian knocked down by a tosser on a motorcycle... jumped the pedestrian light. Patient unconscious but breathing on her own, multiple contusions, possible fractures. Neck immobilised – unable to detect any trauma to spine. Severe blow to the head on impact with the ground. Patient has not regained consciousness at all since we arrived on the scene…possibly going on an hour now."

Jen walked over to the gurney and leaned over the patient and the blood drained from her face. "Oh my God…oh my God…"

The medics looked at her and one of them came closer, "Are you alright?"

"It's my friend Kate…she works here. Oh my God…" Jen put her hand on the medic's arm, "Please stay with her while I go and fetch Doctor Milligan."

Jen rushed out and looked for the senior registrar on duty. He had to be in one of the cubicles and when she eventually found him she all but dragged him to where Kate lay, explaining to him that Kate was the senior theatre sister in the vascular surgical team and a friend of hers. She didn't tell him that she was also Martin Ellingham's girlfriend. She didn't know how many people knew that yet.

He examined Kate thoroughly and ordered a line put in and various scans and x-rays. She was hooked up to a device that monitored vital signs – Jen got one of the junior nurses to get the procedure going to have Kate admitted because by the looks of her she wasn't going anywhere soon. Oh God.

The medics had put Kate's backpack on the chair next to the gurney and as Jen picked it up she heard Kate's mobile ringing. She fished around inside the bag and found it. The screen said "Martin". Jen's heart plummeted – she was going to have to tell him. She knew they were living together and this was going to be so hard for him to hear. She took a deep breath and answered. "Hello."

Instead of a gruff, abrupt voice on the other end Jen heard Ellingham say, "Kate?" in a gentle voice.

"Mr Ellingham?"

"Yes," the voice was now abrupt. "Who is this?"

"Mr Ellingham my name is Jen Walker – I'm a friend of Kate's and also senior nurse down in A&E."

"Yes what is it…and why are you answering Kate's phone?" Ellingham's voice was impatient.

Jen paused. There was no easy way to do this.

"I'm afraid there's been an accident. Kate is down here in the A&E."

There was a pause. When he spoke again Ellingham's voice was precise and slow, "What do you mean she's down in the A&E?"

"She was knocked down and has just been brought in. Perhaps you should come down…"

The phone went dead before she could finish speaking.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin's blood ran cold. For a moment he was paralysed with dread as he sat behind his desk in his consulting room. Kate…oh God. What would he find when he got there. Jen had not said anything about Kate's condition but she clearly wasn't in a state to answer her phone.

He got up and went through to the reception area where two patients waited to see him. He stopped at Mrs Blake's desk. "I have an emergency to attend to. Please reschedule these appointments."

Mrs Blake took one look at this face and knew that her boss was not quite in control of himself. Something had happened – he looked pale and upset. "Yes Mr Ellingham. Will you be back today at all? What about your procedure in the morning?"

"No I won't be back…I will conduct the procedure as scheduled." His voice was abrupt…he never normally spoke to her like that. Something must have happened but she wouldn't dream of asking him in front of the, by now curious patients. He turned without looking at them and left the room in a hurry.

On his way down to the A&E, Martin's face and demeanour ensured that people got out of his way. If they weren't fast enough he would treat them to an irritated "out of the way" or "move!" but mostly the way opened for him like the parting of the Red Sea.

When he arrived in the triage area of the chaotic emergency section, Martin's obvious stance of authority and his immaculate dress had everyone looking at him, patients and staff alike. It wasn't every day that they saw someone like him down there. A few staff immediately recognised the chief of vascular and their eyes widened. What was he doing down here?

Martin looked around impatiently. "Nurse Walker?" he called in an authoritative voice. When she didn't immediately appear in front of him he shouted louder, "Nurse _Walker_!"

Jen heard him before she saw him.

"Nurse _Walker_!"

She poked her head out of the cubicle where Kate lay. "Mr Ellingham…over here."

Martin strode in, hardly acknowledging Jen at all. His eyes were fixed on the gurney where Kate lay. She looked so small with all the wires connected to her and a sheet covering her body. He stood looking down at her and his face looked pale…devastated…he put out his hand and gently brushed the hair from her forehead. Then he looked up and immediately went into doctor mode. He put his hand out "Notes…"

Jen handed him the clipboard with the ambulance medic's report and Dr Milligan's notes.

"Where's the attending doctor?" He looked around and his gaze fell on Jen. "Who's the doctor? Where is he?" His eyes bored into her.

"Dr Milligan…he was just here."

"Find him…I want him here _now_."

Ellingham wasn't someone you argued with. Even though he had no authority down in A&E, no one would dream of telling him that. Jen left to go and find Milligan.

Martin went back to the gurney. Kate had massive bruising down the left side of her face and grazing on the jawline. The hand lying on top of the covers had a drip inserted in it and also showed grazes. Martin checked the flow of the drip – it was spot on. He checked the vital signs on Kate's monitor - blood pressure, pulse and respiration all fine. But there was still no way to know what was going on inside her body…her beautiful, soft body that he'd held in his arms all night. He swallowed hard. A grim frown settled on his face and he turned as he heard voices at the entrance to the cubicle.

"Mr Ellingham – Chris Milligan, senior registrar."

"Yes." Martin's tone was impatient. "I see scans have been ordered – why hasn't this happened already? What's the delay?"

"I'm not sure…"

"What do you mean you're not sure?" He enunciated each word and his voice sounded incredulous. "A patient presenting with signs of head trauma should have been sent for a scan straight away."

"I'm aware of that…I suppose they've been a bit swamped in radiology."

"I don't care _how_ swamped they are Milligan – you should have insisted on it. Arrange for it to happen _right_ now or I will take her there myself."

"Sir…I don't think you should…"

" _Don't_ argue with me. Just see to it." Milligan stared at him and was just about to speak again when Martin bellowed at him, "Well don't just stand there… _move_ you incompetent idiot!"

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

It was a while later before Martin sat down beside Kate's bed in the new ward. He'd turned the sound of the apparatus monitoring her vital signs right down. The constant beeping was making him feel agitated. They'd 'miraculously' found an opening and taken Kate to radiology to have the scans done and she was back now. He was waiting for the report to arrive but the incompetent fools were taking their time. He'd give them another five minutes and then someone was going to hear from him.

He knew he had no jurisdiction in this ward, medically speaking – he couldn't order any changes to Kate's care but by God he could make sure that whatever had to be done was done faster than this pathetic snail's pace. Whenever the new doctor, Doctor Fraser came in Martin would pepper him with questions and challenge his proposed treatment and would only stop when he was satisfied that it was the best way forward. By then the entire floor knew that the chief of vascular was there and they were all on their toes.

He'd arranged for Kate to be transferred to a private ward. At first he was told it couldn't be done – maybe in a day or two but only under special circumstances. Nonsense he'd shouted. Try harder! But there was one _rubbish_ mountain of red-tape after another and Martin's temper had boiled over – no-one wanted to come near him except Jen who didn't have a choice. He was a formidable man and she was also quaking but she'd eventually looked at him once Milligan had left and said, "Kate is my friend, Mr Ellingham. I understand what you are going through…but I also have a job to do here – let me do it without you shouting at me…yeah?" She spoke quietly so no-one else could hear. Martin had looked down at her with that deep and penetrating stare he had when he was thinking deeply. Jen had never experienced it before and couldn't help thinking that even though they looked fierce at the moment, they were beautiful eyes…expressive eyes. And it only registered because she knew Kate was in love with this man. It made her want to try and see what it was that Kate found so appealing. Right now the man was brimming with anger and impatience…and worry. The energy emanating from him was almost tangible. Just as suddenly his demeanour changed and those eyes reflected all the fear and pain he was feeling and he quickly turned away. "Yes…yes…well get on with it then," he said and his voice was much quieter.

After another half an hour had gone by and there was still no progress about the private ward, Martin decided to do something he would normally never do. He phoned the Provost, Simon Holden and explained the situation. Within twenty minutes Kate was on her way to a private ward.

Now he sat next to her bed, relieved that they were alone for now. He looked at Kate's face. She looked as if she was asleep, not unconscious and he took her hand in his. It was warm and he rubbed his thumb over the back of it as he sometimes did when they were sitting listening to music in the evenings. The bruises on the side of her face were now black and her hair was still matted in places with blood from the injury to her head. Oh God Kate. His heart was hammering and the fear rose in him like a tidal wave. He wouldn't be able to bear it if she didn't recover. What if her brain was bleeding and damaged – what if she survived and she didn't recognise him anymore? What would happen if she didn't make it…if the swelling in her brain increased and she died? He closed his eyes as the thoughts rushed into his mind – tormenting him. Visions of a life without Kate crowded in. Please God no.

Jen appeared in the doorway carrying the radiology report. He stood up and took it from her and he was once again in doctor mode. The scans showed no cranial fractures and no bleeding which was a very good sign. He relaxed just a little. But there was swelling and the pressure on the brain would have to be monitored carefully. It was worrying that she had been in and out of consciousness for almost three hours. Sometimes she would groan and her eyes would open but she was never fully conscious.

There was a hairline fracture of her left wrist. He looked at all the scans again. No - the radiologist had not missed anything. Kate certainly had strong and healthy bones to survive an impact like that without anything being broken. Her wrist however would require immobilisation once the drip was removed.

He breathed a sigh of relief. The scans were encouraging. The tough part was waiting to see how the swelling on the brain would develop. He was hoping that with the correct procedures they could keep the swelling down and if so, Kate would come out of it well and might be able to go home within a few days…maybe a week. But she would still require observation for the next few weeks. Sometimes concussion had some long term effects and it was something that doctors never took lightly.

A battery of tests was underway – they'd taken blood for analysis and her vital signs were being monitored. There wasn't much else they could do now but wait until she regained consciousness. Her cognitive state would be a good indicator of the extent of the trauma the brain had sustained. But for now they had to wait.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks for your patience in waiting for the new posts. This one in particular needed a lot of research for the medical scenes. Doctor Google was a great help but please forgive any errors I might have made.**

 **Thanks too for all the reviews and PMs - I really appreciate the feedback.**

 **For those who are wondering...yes I did write a draft of the other outcome to Kate's accident. I cried so much I couldn't finish it :( - I might still do it one day - as an alternative ending to the story. But for now, I hope to explore this relationship a little more - to catch a glimpse of what we never see (and will never see) in the DM series.**


	34. Chapter 34

Kate opened her eyes. It was dark and she felt disorientated and the pain was almost unbearable. She tried to move her arm but it felt too heavy - everything was too much effort. She became vaguely aware of a soft beeping sound next to her. She groaned and tried to turn her head towards it but she couldn't move. The room slowly came into focus for a second and as her brain began to register sounds and smells she realized that she was in a hospital bed in a dimly lit room. She had a blinding headache. That phrase took on a new meaning for her. Everything was blurred. She began to feel afraid. She wished Martin were with her. She wanted him.

"Martin?" she blinked trying to clear her vision. Her voice sounded croaky and was hardly more than a whisper. She hurt everywhere. Where was Martin? Tears welled up.

"Martin…?" Her voice was a little stronger.

And all of a sudden he was there beside her…bending over her. His face swam into focus – his eyes were soft and concerned…his beautiful eyes. The memories came crowding back – she didn't think she would ever see those eyes again. "Martin." The tears were now streaming down her face.

Martin stroked her cheeks and gently brushing them away. "Shh…shh…shh…I'm here…try not to speak."

His voice was soft and so beautiful. She needed him so much. "Hold me." She managed to lift her hand so she could touch his face. "Hold me Martin."

He leaned over and gently slid his arm under her shoulders and put his cheek to hers. He felt the wetness of her tears and his heart felt like it could burst with love and compassion for this woman who meant everything to him.

"I thought I would never see you again," she whispered. Her speech was a little slurred. "I'm so glad you're here," She felt his silky hair under her fingers and smelt the clean scent of him. She needed his comfort and his love. "Please don't ever leave me…"

He kissed her lips gently, "I won't." He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, "Are you in pain?"

"Yes…my head hurts so much."

He straightened up and she gripped his hand.

"I'll get you something for it…I'll be back in a moment." But Kate wouldn't let go of him so he rang the bell to summon a nurse. The ward sister appeared within seconds. Everyone was on their toes when the head of vascular and the Provost were involved.

"I want to consult with the attending doctor…Fraser is it? Get him here right now." She hesitated and his eyebrow went up. " _Immediately!_ " And she quickly went to find him.

When the doctor arrived they stood at the end of the bed quietly discussing pain medication and other aspects of Kate's condition. She listened to Martin. His voice was beautiful and he was so in charge in this environment.

When they had finished he went back to Kate. Her eyes were once more closed and Martin took her hand in his and held it gently.

"Kate?" he said softly. "Can you hear me?" She nodded and immediately groaned with pain.

"Try not to move your head. You're concussed." His hand felt warm and strong. "We'll give you something for the pain any minute now." Kate looked at him standing next to her bed. He looked so tall and handsome in his dark suit and red tie. Just having him there made her feel that everything would be alright. How she loved him. He was her whole world. "Martin...?" He leaned closer. "Will you stay with me...till I fall asleep?"

He looked down at her. The light from the monitors cast a soft glow making her look so small and vulnerable in the big hospital bed. The bruises on her face looked black and her eyes were big and watched him as if she was afraid he was going to disappear. His heart ached to see her like that. "Of course I will."

When the ward sister came in with the pain medication Martin watched her like a hawk as she prepared the syringe and injected the clear fluid straight into the drip.

Kate felt a slight rush of euphoria and the pain immediately abated.

Martin sat down next to the bed. "Try not to move your head – the absence of pain can make one over confident and you could aggravate the condition."

"It feels a lot better now," she whispered.

"How's your side?" he asked softly. "Will you let me take a look?"

"Mmmm…please."

"That will be all thank you." Martin nodded at the ward sister and she left.

He lifted the sheet covering her and folded it back. The hospital gown they'd put her in covered her to her knees and he lifted that as well. She was black and blue from her hip to her ankle as well as her arm and parts of her side. Martin's face looked grim as he took in the extent of the contusions. He sighed deeply. Although there were no fractures, she was badly bruised and would feel discomfort for quite a while. She looked so defenceless and small. He just wanted to take her in his arms and hold her but that was not possible right now.

He pulled the cover over her again. Her eyes were closed and her hair was splayed out over the pillow. He reached over and brushed a strand off her face and her hand reached for his. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks again. She couldn't stop them and he gently wiped them from her face and kissed her cheek. His presence comforted her and she fell asleep again holding his hand.

Martin spent the rest of the day and the whole night with her. He only went to his rooms in the morning to shower, shave and change his clothes and he came down to see her again before he had to go to theatre.

The ward was still buzzing about his presence there. The night shift gossiped with the day staff as they handed over. One of the nurses told a colleague that Ellingham had been there all night.

"Yeah…he was sat there next to her bed like a body guard. If anyone went in there to take obs or anything he was all over them…watching them like a hawk. Unnerving bugger. I hear he knocked a few heads together down in A&E yesterday too…including the senior registrar."

The other nurse shook her head and smiled wistfully. "Must be wonderful to have someone love you like that hey? Who would have thought? Always heard that Ellingham was a confirmed bachelor."

The rumours were now flying around the hospital. Martin Ellingham and Kate Rushton were clearly an item and the grapevine was humming red hot.

When he entered the ward a little later it was as if a wave of energy preceded him as he headed towards Kate's room. Everyone stood aside as this imposing man strode by, a deep frown on his face. It was now the talk of the entire hospital that the Chief had been down to the emergency floor the previous day and that he'd thrown one of his legendary tantrums at the doctor on duty, calling him an incompetent idiot for not following basic procedure. So now no-one wanted to attract attention to themselves in case his ire fell on them – they were all pussyfooting around him.

When he walked into Kate's room she was awake and her face lit up when she saw him. He was relieved to see that she seemed much more alert.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he flipped through her chart. Since his scathing rant the day before he noted with satisfaction that the staff was now meticulously filling it in. "How is the headache?"

"Not feeling much right now…the pain meds help a lot." She gave a little smile.

"Can you remember what happened Kate?" he asked as he came to stand next to her bed. If she could answer his question coherently it meant that her memory hadn't been significantly affected.

"Umm…yes. I was crossing the road and the cars were stopped at the traffic lights." Her brow wrinkled in a small frown. "There was a loud roar and then I felt a tremendous blow…and I remember thinking of you before everything went black."

Martin stroked her hand then remembered that they weren't alone. The attending nurse hovered nearby and he turned to her and said curtly, "That will be all." And with a "Yes Mr Ellingham", she left the room.

"Your scans are satisfactory given the circumstances," he said to Kate. "There's a slight swelling of the brain that should subside within a week or so. Until then you will experience headaches and possibly nausea." He gently turned her head to examine the massive bruise and lump where her head had hit the road. According to Jen, when she'd come to visit briefly the day before, an idiot on a motorcycle had come up between the stationary cars and jumped the pedestrian light, accelerating right into her as she trailed behind the other pedestrians. Fortunately for Kate he had hit her at a relatively low speed. If her head had struck the kerb or another sharp surface it would have killed her. As it is, it was a miracle that she hadn't sustained any fractures or significant internal injuries from the impact – only extensive bruising.

Kate put her hand on Martin's arm and rubbed gently. "Thank you for staying with me…it means a lot to me. I know how busy you are." Her voice was a little tremulous. She felt weak and vulnerable and she just wanted him near…wanted his reassuring presence and his touch.

He put his hand out and gently brushed the hair from her forehead. "When Jen told me you had been in an accident…I feared the worst." His voice cracked a bit and Kate could see the fear on his face. He was trying to hold himself together. He leaned down. "I love you so much Kate." he said softly and his voice shook. She put her hand behind his head and gently pulled him down a little more. "I love you too my darling man." He gently kissed her lips and stroked her hair and his face was full of love and concern.

The ward sister stopped in the doorway not wanting to intrude on this touching scene. She could not believe that she was looking at the same man everyone was so scared of at St Mary's. This man was soft and gentle, so unlike the grumpy surgeon who terrorised everyone. Well well…the tyrant had a soft side to him. He was so gentle with Kate, touching her cheek with the backs of his fingers. He bent closer and murmured something that only she could hear and she smiled up at him and stroked the hair at the back of his neck. They clearly loved each other very much.

Martin suddenly looked up and saw the sister standing in the doorway and he straightened. "Yes, what is it?" He dipped his chin and coughed. How much had she seen?

"Time for observations Mr Ellingham."

"Yes…" He turned to Kate. "I have a procedure scheduled in an hour," he said softly, "but I will be back after that."

Kate squeezed his hand gently.

Martin fixed the ward sister with that forbidding stare of his. "If you detect any changes to any of the vitals or anything else please call me immediately…even if I am in theatre. Is that clear?"

"Yes Mr Ellingham. Don't worry, she is in good hands."

He glared at her for a moment then turned to say goodbye to Kate. He squeezed her hand and gave her one of his little smiles then quickly strode from the room.


	35. Chapter 35

Martin was back by lunchtime and spent the afternoon with Kate. He'd brought some paperwork to work on as he sat next to her bed. Every now and then he would look up to watch her sleeping, pleased that her face looked soft and relaxed. Sometimes when he looked up he would find her looking at him and they would both smile gently.

Martin consulted with the attending doctor on all aspects of Kate's care and he slowly began to trust the man. But even though he and Fraser seemed to be in agreement on most things, Martin still wanted to be in on everything but at least he'd calmed down considerably.

Towards late afternoon Kate woke after a long sleep and turned her head slightly to see him still sitting next to her reading through some papers. He looked drawn and there were deep lines etched into his face. He was tired and worried. He looked up and she put out her hand and he took it in his. "Martin, I want you to go home and sleep. You're tired."

He fixed her with that open gaze of his. "I'm OK….I'm fine."

"No you're not. And you can't perform surgery when you are this tired. You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?" She squeezed his hand gently. "I'll be fine…I'm feeling much better. And besides, I'm going to be asleep most of the night anyway…and you need to sleep too." She smiled at him.

Eventually she managed to persuade him and also made him promise that he would eat something when he got home. Martin often skipped meals when he was extremely busy and she didn't like it. She asked him to pack some personal things for her and bring them in the morning and he also took her backpack with him - she wouldn't have much use for it there she said.

He bent down to say goodbye and she lifted her hand and stroked his cheek and whispered softly, "I love you so much Martin…so very much." She pulled him down gently so she could kiss his lips. "You're my whole life….you're everything to me."

She saw his eyes glisten and he leaned in and put his face in her neck. "Oh God Kate…if anything had happened to you…I don't know what I would have done. My life would have been over." His voice cracked. Kate stroked his hair and he lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes. "You're my whole life too Kate Rushton," and his lips touched hers in the gentlest of kisses.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

When Martin got home he showered and had a light meal of soup and crisp bread. Kate was right, he was tired – she could always pick it up. He looked around the kitchen after he'd tidied everything away. Usually they did things like this together and there would always be some talk between them as they worked – what they would listen to or an idea for an outing over the weekend. He missed her. He looked at the time as he folded the drying cloth – it had just gone eight. There was one more thing he had to do before he went up to bed.

He opened Kate's backpack to look for her mobile. When he saw the book on clocks he smiled tenderly. Kate had been shopping again. She was always buying him little presents – she'd said she couldn't resist when he'd protested that she shouldn't keep doing that.

When he found her phone he hesitated a moment – the screen was locked, then he remembered she'd told him her password once when she'd asked him to look for something while she was cooking one evening. It was 2810 - her birthday. He scrolled through the recently dialled contacts on her phone until he found 'Mum' and pressed dial.

Evelyn answered after a few rings. "Hello darling, I'm so glad you called…"

"Mrs Rushton - it's Martin Ellingham."

"Oh hello dear. How nice to hear you." She sounded a bit puzzled. Martin had never spoken to her on the phone before. "How are you…and how's Kate?"

"Umm…I'm fine…yes…thank you…umm." Martin paused. He knew that if he started off by saying that Kate had been in an accident her mother might think she was dead or dying. And knowing that her husband had died in an accident he wanted to spare her that, so he started in a roundabout way – something he would normally never do.

"Mrs Rushton…please don't be alarmed by what I am about to tell you…umm…Kate's alright but she's been in an accident…she's…" He could hear her gasp at the other end of the phone. "No…no…she's OK…well…umm…she was injured but she's stable now. I've…umm…been with her all the time…and she's doing very well."

He explained exactly what had happened, what the injuries were and what her recovery would entail. After the initial shock, Evelyn was in control of herself again and they talked for some time.

"I spent the night with her…and this morning she was much more alert and more like herself again."

Martin could only imagine what Kate's mother must be feeling, being so far away from her daughter as she lay in hospital and as if she could read his mind she said, "Martin, I want to come up to London to be with her…perhaps when she comes home so that I might be of some help…to you both."

"Yes…yes of course. I am sure she would like that very much." He wondered if Kate had told her about their living arrangements. "Umm…Mrs Rushton you do know that Kate and I are…umm…living together? That she's staying with me in Kensington?"

"It's Evelyn please Martin and yes Kate has told me. She never stops talking about you whenever we chat on the phone." She gave a soft chuckle. "She's head over heels for you Martin...and I am very happy for both of you."

Martin was relieved that Evelyn couldn't see him blushing. Exactly how much had Kate told her mother? Surely she wouldn't tell her _everything_? Would she?"

He gave a little cough, "Well…yes…umm…we have a spare bedroom here and you are welcome to make use of it. I am sure Kate will enjoy your company while she is convalescing. All going well she should be back home in less than a week…and she won't be going back to work for at least a month."

Evelyn hoped that Martin was up to coping with Kate's stubbornness. If she knew her daughter she would want to go back to work a lot sooner than that. But his tone sounded very firm and she was confident that he would make her see reason.

Before they said goodbye Evelyn said she would wait for word of when Kate would be coming home and she would make arrangements to come up whenever he thought it best. Martin also promised to keep her updated and to let her speak to Kate once she was allowed to use her mobile in the ward. With a head injury they didn't encourage it.

Martin made his way upstairs and got ready for bed. He heard rain pattering on the windows as he slid under the duvet. It sounded soothing in the darkness as he lay trying to fall asleep. He missed Kate. The bed felt strange without her beside him and it made him realise just how easily they had slipped into a life together…and just how easily it could be torn apart. In a heartbeat her life had almost been snuffed out and he might never have held her in his arms again. Just the thought of it scared him senseless.

She had altered his life in so many ways. He loved her gentle teasing and how she flirted with him and made him feel special and how she said that seeing him made her whole day. She often said things like that to him but he'd never allowed himself to take it literally.

After he'd come back from York and they'd spoken about his feelings of inadequacy and his fear that he wouldn't make her happy, she had made a point of reminding him every day that it was just _being_ with him that made her happy. _He_ made her happy and he made her feel alive and content and excited. He'd never been told anything like that in his entire life. He found it impossible to believe someone could use those words when they were talking about him. And anyway, even though Kate did say them, it wouldn't last. Once she became bored and frustrated with him, it would all be over. It was bound to happen.

The strange thing was that he never _actually_ thought those things – he didn't have an internal dialogue with himself and actually think those things out and come to that conclusion. The thoughts were just there in his mind...all the time...in his subconscious. They surfaced, unbidden to blend in with every conversation he had, every moment he experienced…the thoughts were always lurking no matter how often he tried to reason them away. They were always there like spectres in the darkness, passing judgement on all his dealings with people. Sooner or later people would find him lacking and they would leave him. And the spectres prepared him for disappointment.

But then, in the hospital the day before, something happened that made him begin to see things differently. It wasn't until Kate regained consciousness that it really sank in. The first thing she did when she came round was she'd called for him. She wanted him and only him when she was at her most vulnerable. When she didn't know where she was and what was happening to her she'd called for him and she'd said, _"I thought I'd never see you again…please don't ever leave me."_ She'd been afraid and she'd turned to him for reassurance and comfort.

He heard her words again, " _I love you Martin…you're my whole life…you're everything to me."_ She'd said those words when she was lying in a hospital bed and her senses were clouded with pain and shock - when she was vulnerable and hurting. In his experience with patients, people spoke the truth at times like that – there were no illusions, no fairy tales – they spoke what was really in their hearts, not what they thought others wanted to hear. And she had wanted him. Not her mother, not her friend or the doctor who was caring for her. She'd found comfort in him. Her need to be close to him was deep-seated and spontaneous. And that had resonated with his fragile ego. It had somehow driven those spectres further into the darkness so that their incessant voices were silenced long enough for him to get a clear vision of what was really happening.

How could he even subconsciously continue to question her love? If she said she was happy being with him then he must believe it to be true. He had to stop letting his feelings of inadequacy drive a wedge between them. He must learn to accept her love in the same way that she gave it…unconditionally. It was so clear to him now. And for the first time in his life he realised that someone loved him for who he was…all of him…good and bad. Kate didn't handpick the things she wanted. She didn't try and change the things she didn't like and there must be lots of them. She accepted him for who he was. And so must he. He must accept her love and not try and analyse it or anticipate failure because of his damaged and defensive ego. He must stop letting the spectres influence him. Kate's unconditional love was his saving grace and he loved her with everything that was in him. Now he must show it.

He checked his mobile on the bedside pedestal. It was on loud enough to wake him up should the hospital call. He settled down and drew her pillow towards him - it smelt of her shampoo and he hugged it close and fell into a deep sleep.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks once again for all the reviews and PMs. Martin and Kate's relationship has resonated with so many of you and it is encouraging to read your opinions and feelings on events as they unfold.**


	36. Chapter 36

When Martin arrived at the hospital the next morning he immediately became aware that people were looking at him differently. There was a curiosity in their eyes and he assumed the hospital grapevine had been working overtime with the news that he'd been with Kate down in A&E and spent the night next to her bed in the ward. He didn't care and he treated them all to his deepest scowl to discourage any further interaction.

When he went to conduct his ward rounds the group of junior registrars were waiting for him as usual. There were knowing grins on some faces even though he glared at them from under his brows. What was wrong with these idiots? He tried to be as quick as possible on his rounds so that he could see Kate for a little while before he had to prepare for his morning procedure. At last they finished with the final patient and as he replaced the clipboard back in its holder at the end of the patient's bed he heard one of the registrars say, "Thank you sir, you must be in a _rush_ to get away." The others were choking back their mirth. He glared at them, his one eyebrow raised but he bit back a retort and with a curt "Yes…" to the ward sister he strode down the corridor without a backward glance.

The ward sister waited until he was out of earshot then gave the registrars a piece of her mind. "Leave the poor man alone you miserable bunch. You're just jealous, the lot of you, that Miss Rushton favours him."

They all good naturedly joked with her. "Yeah…definitely jealous - she's hot."

"A bit confused – the bloke is a monk."

"What the hell does she see in him?"

"Not exactly Tom Cruise is he?"

"Grumpy git."

The ward sister fixed them all with her most intimidating stare. "He's only grumpy because he has the likes of you lot to deal with – he can be a very nice man you know."

"Yeah…with the emphasis on _can be_."

One of the doctors leaned closer, "Sounds like you've got a soft spot for Ellingham Sister Jackson…how did that happen?"

She poked him good naturedly in the ribs, "Because he's smarter than you Dr Harvey and way more charming."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin made his way to his rooms. He would check his schedule and have an espresso before he went to see Kate. It was no good going now – ward rounds would be in progress. He realised that he'd pushed the boundaries of professional etiquette by constantly wanting to be with Kate and for consulting with her doctor. Fraser had tolerated his presence because he must have known that he and Kate were living together but technically he had no legal right to be there. He wasn't married to Kate. He wasn't even family. The fact that she wanted him there counted in his favour but he'd realised that if someone complained he would be on the carpet. He didn't care about any of that – he only cared about Kate and he would continue to see her until she was discharged.

He prepared the espresso machine and watched as the rich, dark liquid decanted into the little cup. As he took his first sip he thought about that. Kate felt more like family than anyone had ever done in his life. His parents were a biological connection to him – nothing more. Aunty Joan was the closest to blood family but Kate was the only person who made him really feel like he belonged.

He heard the door to reception open and looked through from the little galley kitchen to see Mrs Blake walk in. His receptionist was a petite, trim woman with a very refined manner. Her grey hair was styled short and she dressed impeccably. He estimated her to be in her late fifties or so. He liked her - she was one of the few people he could interact with on a daily basis who didn't irritate him and she looked after the practice in an efficient and no-nonsense way. She was protective of him and of his time and he was grateful for her professional manner.

Mrs Blake looked up and saw him standing there and smiled. "Oh Mr Ellingham, there you are. I thought you must be in when I smelt the lovely aroma of your coffee." She put her handbag down. "I'm glad I caught you before you headed out again."

Martin stood looking at her from across the room, cup in hand. "Yes…?"

"How is Miss Rushton doing Mr Ellingham…I hope she is on the mend?" How did she know? Martin frowned and was just about to tell her to mind her own business but stopped himself. He had to get used to people seeing him and Kate as a couple. And Mrs Blake was genuinely concerned about him and, by association, about Kate.

"Umm…she is improving very well thank you Mrs Blake." He dipped his chin and gave a little cough. "Yes…umm…she should be going home the day after tomorrow."

"That is good news…very pleased to hear it." She looked at his appointment schedule. "I suppose you will want the day off when she does…or part of it at least?"

He hesitated. He was going to contradict her but then thought, no, he would very much like to be with Kate when she went home. He wanted to spend a little time with her before her mother arrived.

"Thank you Mrs Blake. See what you can do about rescheduling things for me. I will be able to fit in one or two consultations in the morning before Kate is discharged but nothing after eleven and nothing the day after. I don't have any procedures in the next few days so that shouldn't be a problem."

He left shortly afterwards and went straight up to see Kate. She appeared to be asleep when he entered her room and even though he was quiet she immediately opened her eyes and smiled one of her glorious, bright smiles. "Hello my darling man. Did you have a good rest?"

He smiled down at her as he took her hand in his. "I should be asking you that. And yes I slept well thank you." He bent down and kissed her gently. "How are you feeling?"

He watched her face as she told him about her night. The bruises were improving but they still reminded him every time he saw them just how close she had come to losing her life. He gave himself a mental shake and concentrated on what Kate was saying. She was coherent and more animated than before and he was very encouraged by that. He went to the end of her bed to look at her notes. They looked good – everything was improving. Thank God.

Martin told her that he had phoned her mother and Kate immediately looked concerned. "Oh Martin she must have got such a shock…you know…after my father…"

"Yes…but I was careful to prepare her first by saying that you were alright before I told her about the accident." He felt her squeeze his hand. "She wants to come up and spend some time with you when you come home." It sounded so good to say that – _come home_. "I said she should stay with us – in the spare room."

Kate looked at him questioningly. "Are you alright with that Martin? All the Rushtons taking over your home."

"It's our home Kate. And of course it's alright."

Her eyes glistened with tears and Martin looked concerned. "What's the matter? Are you in pain? When last did they administer your medication?" He jumped up and went to the end of the bed where he grabbed her chart. "Let me look…it says they gave your meds at 6.45 am…why are you still in pain?"

"Martin I'm fine…I'm not in pain." She dashed the tears from her cheeks. He looked a little bewildered as he stood with her notes in his hands. "It's how you said it's _our_ home. It sounded so beautiful…I'm sorry I'm just very emotional for some reason…"

He came back to her and sat on the side of the bed. He slid his arm under her shoulders and put his cheek against hers. "That's alright…you can be as emotional as you like. Quite understandable."

Kate inhaled the clean male scent of him and stroked his soft hair. He made her feel safe and wanted. He lifted his head and stared deeply into her eyes – then softly kissed her lips.

When Martin went to find Dr Fraser to discuss Kate's condition he said she was improving very well and was optimistic that she could go home the day after next. They wanted to keep her under observation until then. Fraser knew he could have let her go the next day knowing that she would be under Ellingham's care at home, but better to be safe than sorry and Ellingham didn't argue with him, much to his surprise.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The day Kate came home Martin was like a protective guard dog around her and he tried to keep his temper under control when things didn't go as smoothly as he wanted. The hospital discharge procedure stretched his patience to the limit and at one point his exasperation with the paperwork boiled over. "Come come come - if I had to operate so slowly on one of my patients they'd be dead by now! What's the delay? Get a move on." Kate had rubbed his arm gently and smiled up at him and it immediately calmed him but he watched them like a hawk and the administrative staff seemed to speed things up a bit.

Martin had made sure a taxi was waiting outside the hospital to take them home. Using his own car would have been impossible with all the problems associated with parking in and around the hospital. He walked beside the hospital porter who pushed Kate's wheelchair to the entrance and he helped her up when they got there. She held onto his arm and they slowly made their way out onto the pavement and into the waiting taxi.

Kate looked pale and drawn. The last week had been tough on her and she would need a lot of rest and he was relieved when they eventually arrived home and he helped her up the stairs and inside. When he closed the front door he walked through to the sitting room with Kate and, putting her small over-night bag down, he immediately took her gently in his arms. It was the first time he had been able to do this since her accident. He buried his face in her neck and rocked her gently and she wound her arms around his neck and nestled against his chest.

Eventually he lifted his head and looked into her eyes with an expression of such love and tenderness that Kate's eyes filled with tears. She was still feeling fragile and weak and cried easily. Martin gently wiped the tears away with his thumbs and bent his head to softly kiss her lips. His mouth moved so slowly and so tenderly over hers and she leaned into him - drawing strength from him.

But she tired easily and Martin soon ushered her upstairs and made sure she was comfortable in bed. He unpacked her bag and took the laundry downstairs to put in the wash. Kate watched him. He was so meticulous, folding everything neatly before he put it in the wardrobe. She just adored him. He brought her tea and drew the curtains so that the room was dim because her eyes were still sensitive. And she eventually dozed off, content knowing she was home and he was close.

Martin spent the rest of the day making sure that Kate had everything she wanted and that she rested properly. He supervised her medication and cooked a pot of soup for supper knowing she would probably not want to eat anything too bulky.

Towards late afternoon, he said he was walking down the road to buy some groceries and would be gone about an hour. He left her mobile within reach so that she could call him if she needed to.

That evening he brought her a bowl of soup and some crisp baguette-style bread on a tray for her supper and sat with her while she ate it. She was always amazed at how well he cooked. It was delicious.

When Martin came back upstairs after tidying up, he helped Kate to the bathroom to freshen up saying she should call him if she felt faint or ill. She smiled gently at him. His fussing was so sweet and she just adored him.

Eventually they lay together in the big bed. She always felt dwarfed in the bed. Martin was a big man and the bed was extra length and king-size to accommodate his tall frame.

He lay on his side next to her, looking at her and stroking her hair. His eyes looked like liquid silver in the dim light. She put her hand up and stroked his cheek. "I'm so happy to be home with you."

"Mmm…me too. I missed you."

She pulled him closer. "Hold me Martin."

"Are you sure I won't hurt you? The bruising must be sensitive."

"I will tell you if it hurts Martin. Right now I just want to be close to you."

So he gently gathered her to his body and held her tenderly, breathing in the soft scent of her and feeling her smooth skin under his hands. Eventually she lifted his head and her lips found his, gliding over his mouth, tasting him, taking comfort from his gentle kiss. Eventually he lay back and let her rest her head on his shoulder and they both fell into a contented sleep."

The next morning, Martin slipped out of bed early without disturbing Kate. He looked down at her as she lay sleeping, her hair splayed out over the pillow. She was beautiful even with the yellowing bruises.

He put on his dressing gown and made his way downstairs. It was raining hard and the temperature had dropped but the central heating kept the townhouse at a comfortable temperature. Martin prepared a tray for Kate's breakfast and took it upstairs when he heard her moving about. When he entered the bedroom she was sitting propped up against the headboard with a soft pillow behind her. She looked rested and when she saw him with the tray her eyes widened and she said, "Ohh…" and broke into a wide smile.

He brought the tray to her and set it on her lap. On it was a little pot of coffee and a fresh croissant with butter and jam in little ramekins. To one side was a little vase with a single red rose in it and a cream coloured envelope with the words _Happy Birthday_ written in cursive script.

Kate's hand flew to her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. "Oh Martin…" With everything that had happened she had totally forgotten about her own birthday.

He sat down next to her and leaned over and kissed her gently. "Happy Birthday…my beautiful Kate," he murmured then sat back and poured some coffee into her cup. He said that they couldn't go to their little Parisian restaurant so he thought breakfast in bed might make up for it. "And the croissant is only just this once." He gave a mock frown and raised his eyebrow. It always made her smile when he did that.

She reached for the envelope and opened it. Inside were two tickets and at first she thought they were for a concert but on taking a closer look she saw they were Eurostar tickets – London to Paris - booked three weeks from her birthday, leaving on a Friday afternoon and returning the Sunday evening.

She gasped and her face broke into a happy smile. "Oh Martin this is wonderful – thank you so, so much!"

He looked at her with a tender smile. "I thought you could ask your mother to go with you…or your friend Jen..."

Kate looked at him thoughtfully and then took his hand and rubbed it gently. "Thank you Martin but I would much rather take my very best friend…I would like you to come with me." She tugged his hand and pulled him closer so she could kiss him gently. "You are an extraordinary man Martin…and I love you so much."

He coughed softly. "Umm…I am sure your bruises will have healed nicely in three weeks. But if not and it worries you, your hair will hide them if you left it loose." He put out his hand and ran his fingers through the soft strands. She knew he loved it when she wore it loose anyway, bruises or not.

Kate looked at Martin. Whenever she thought she couldn't love him more, she found at times like this that her capacity to love him would never have an end. When it came to him, her heart would always have space for more love and more tenderness and more devotion. She gripped his hand and drew him closer, "I love you Martin…you're my whole world." And his soft grey eyes melted with love as he bent down and found her lips.


	37. Chapter 37

Evelyn Rushton watched the landscape flashing by as the train made its way through the countryside. She normally used the four hour journey up from Cornwall to answer fan emails or read but this time she'd spent most of the time deep in thought. When Martin had telephoned her and told her that Kate had been in an accident her heart had almost stopped. It was like reliving the moment almost five years ago when she had got news that her beloved Edward had been killed whilst cycling near Portwenn. He'd loved to cycle and would often go far up onto the moors and be gone for a good few hours. That day the weather had been fine and he'd decided to cycle toward Tintagel for a change as he'd not been that way for a while. She'd kissed him goodbye and gone back to her study to do some work on her book. About two hours later her mobile had rung and his name appeared on the screen. She'd thought that maybe something had gone wrong with his bike. It had happened before that he'd asked her to come and fetch him when he'd been unable to fix the problem. When she answered there was a stranger's voice on the other end. She heard, "Hello…who am I speaking to?"

Evelyn had been a bit suspicious, "Evelyn Rushton…who is this?"

"My name is Police Constable Colin Pascoe ma'am…" and Evelyn's blood had run cold.

The rest of that time was a blur and even now when she thought of it she still couldn't believe she would never see Edward striding up the hill from the village or holding her hand as they walked the cliff path or feel him cuddling her in bed. They had been married for thirty years – she'd been just twenty one and he twenty five when they married - a year later Kate had been born. She'd had a difficult pregnancy and a complicated birth and the doctors had advised her that further pregnancies would not be wise. That had saddened them but Kate had been the apple of their eye and they'd been content.

Hearing Martin on the phone that evening had made her panic. Fate couldn't be that cruel could it? But Martin had put her mind at rest with his calm voice and precise manner. He'd kept his promise and had phoned her every day to give her an update on Kate's progress until she was able to speak to Kate herself. After their initial contact, she'd found Martin to be very shy, almost monosyllabic over the phone and remembered what Kate had told her about him - that he seemed to be a man of polar opposites when it came to confidence and the lack thereof. When he was in doctor-mode, as Kate called it, you wouldn't find a more confident man – he was in charge and precise in his speech and manner but when dealing with people on a personal level it all seemed to evaporate and it was as if he couldn't speak two words together or he just didn't speak at all.

She smiled when she remembered asking Martin during one of his calls how he was feeling…how he was holding up. It seemed to throw him and he stumbled over his words. "Umm…yes…fine…I'm fine…thank you…umm…" It was as if no-one had ever taken his feelings into account before and he couldn't articulate a reply. But what did come across was that Martin cared deeply about Kate. In the days after her accident he'd been with her every moment of the day and night. He'd tried to couch his account of events in doctor-speak but she could read between the words...he must have been just as terrified as she'd been. She was a writer and words and tone were her craft. When he spoke of Kate his voice became soft and velvety – it was gentle. Yes he cared…a lot.

When Kate had first shown an interest in Martin, Evelyn had done what most people did these days when they wanted information: she Googled him. And what she'd found was impressive. From various professional biographies she gleaned that he was highly respected in his field and he'd published papers quite extensively going back many years. He was only just turning forty and had been top in his field for a number of years already. She also read that he was at least the third generation of Ellinghams to excel in the medical field but none had been the prodigy that Martin had been. He'd graduated from school _cum laude_ a full year before his contemporaries, then he'd done the same in medical school. No-one seemed to come close. He had also been the youngest senior registrar in Britain in the last hundred years. Kate had said that in theatre he was amazing – he'd developed and refined techniques in vascular surgery that had revolutionised how things were done. He was now very much in demand to speak and demonstrate the techniques all over the world. Kate had said that it sometimes frustrated him because it took him away from the operating theatre where the actual work lay but that he realised he needed to do it in order to promote his work. Kate was so proud of him and said that Martin appeared to be unaware, and definitely unaffected, by the attention he received. If anything he would become irritated by it. It was one of the things she admired about him, that he took his abilities as a matter of fact and never looked for attention – in fact the total opposite was true. It always surprised him and sometimes annoyed him when the spotlight was on him and not on the work. According to Kate, Martin was the least vain or self-absorbed person she'd ever met, unlike most of the surgeons she'd worked with.

Evelyn remembered her first meeting with him on the doorstep of her home in Portwenn. The man had a natural air of authority and the most direct and unnerving gaze. But she'd also sensed an awkwardness in him – he seemed almost tongue tied - there was no small talk or chatter from his quarter. When anyone spoke he looked directly at them as if he was evaluating every single word and then, if he had something to say, he would respond in one precise sentence otherwise he would just remain silent. At first she'd found his manner off-putting. He was a bit abrupt and difficult to engage with but then she'd realised that Martin wasn't being intentionally rude. He wasn't arrogant or disdainful of the company - he just couldn't participate as other people could. And anyway, to be fair, on the two occasions that she'd been with him, Martin's attention had been on Kate. He'd hardly taken his eyes off of her and she'd seen the utter adoration in his look so she'd not been too fazed about his taciturnity.

Afterwards she'd thought a lot about the blossoming relationship between the two of them. One could hardly meet two people whose personalities were more different. Kate engaged easily with others - she was outgoing and laughed often whereas Martin was the total opposite. She got the impression that he would rather not be around people in a social setting and she wondered if these differences would have a negative bearing on any potential relationship but Kate seemed totally taken with him – she'd told her that Martin was gentle and passionate and had a vulnerability that she was drawn to. When they spoke on the phone Kate would tell her about their outings over weekends and what Martin had said about this or that and it appeared that when he was with Kate he opened up and they talked about all sorts of things. Martin just could not do that naturally with people he did not know.

Kate had obviously found in Martin a man who made her world light up and whom she loved unconditionally. Her conversations with Kate had left her in no doubt about this and that in return, Martin loved her with all that was in him. Kate had intimated something of his awful upbringing and that his withdrawn nature was directly the result of that, but she said that Martin was capable of such a depth of love, he just would not let anyone else see it. Evelyn had picked up on Martin's feelings for Kate. Over the phone she heard it in the way he talked about how she was progressing, that he was 'satisfied with the standard of her care' at the hospital but when Evelyn asked questions that required him to talk about emotions and abstract things about Kate's condition – how she seemed apart from her physical condition – was she mentally and emotionally alright - he'd at first stumbled over his reply. "Umm…yes…she's fine…umm…" then his voice had become soft and, if she had to guess, a little afraid. "She's tearful…yes...and…umm…a little emotional…but she says that…umm…when I'm with her…it's better." He immediately cleared his throat in that self-conscious way of his and became doctor-like again. "Of course there is no medical foundation in that…merely a state of mind…" She smiled. Their relationship would make a wonderful novel she thought. But she would not be the one to write it.

She looked at her watch. She was about half an hour away from Paddington Station and she began to pack away her laptop. She couldn't wait to see Kate. Martin had asked her to come up the day after she was discharged - from what he'd told her, Kate was still extensively bruised and uncomfortable, Her left wrist was strapped up and she had to keep it as immobile as possible. To his great relief her concussion symptoms were much better but he would still monitor it. Dear Martin. She knew that he'd been like a mother hen around Kate. Kate had given her a day by day account of his ministrations and she smiled when she thought of it. But Martin needed to get back to work and Evelyn knew he would feel more at ease if she were with Kate when he could not be.

When the train finally arrived at Paddington and she'd disembarked, Evelyn hailed a taxi, gave the address in Kensington and they were soon on their way. It was getting dark when they pulled up outside the townhouse but Evelyn got a good sense of the elegant terraced townhouses and the beautifully kept street lined with tall trees with their autumn kissed leaves softly lit by street lamps. The taxi driver helped with her luggage and rang the doorbell for her and almost immediately Martin opened the door.

Evelyn looked at the tall, beautifully dressed man standing in the doorway. She smiled up at him and she could see that he looked a bit awkward as if he didn't quite know how to greet her. Do they just say hello or do they shake hands...or what? He stood aside for her to enter and she paused in the narrow space, "Hello dear - it's good to see you," and suddenly stood on tip toe and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Martin went rigid, just as she thought he would. She immediately stepped past him, not giving him time to react or say anything. If he had become part of her daughter's life and had gained her trust and her love, Evelyn would treat him as family – and that's how she greeted family - well for a start anyway, a hug could come later. He'd get used to it. Start as you mean to carry on was always her motto.

A blush tinged Martin's cheeks as he gave that little cough and his words tumbled out, "Yes…good to see you…come in…let me get your luggage…Kate's in the sitting room...go through." Evelyn smiled inwardly at his awkwardness. Kate had not been wrong about him being shy - painfully so.

Martin grabbed the suitcase and another holdall and followed Evelyn into the sitting room where Kate waited. Mother and daughter were embracing and murmuring their greeting. Martin looked on at the genuine affection between the two women – it was almost an alien scene to him and he quickly looked away. His family had never shown affection at all – certainly not to him and he couldn't recall any affection being shown between his parents either – not in front of him anyway.

As the two women went to sit on the sofa Martin watched from across the room and noticed for the first time just how alike they looked. In Evelyn he could see exactly how Kate would look when she was in her fifties. They had the same colour hair although Evelyn's was a little grey now and she wore hers much shorter than Kate's. Her skin was still smooth and her figure trim and firm so she obviously took adequate exercise even for a writer who must be desk-bound for much of the day. Her face was expressive and her eyes were bright and reflected her emotions just as Kate's did. And her mannerisms were the same - the need to touch and the full attention she gave her daughter was just how Kate engaged with him when they were together. He felt a twinge of something he couldn't quite identify. It was a good feeling. It felt comfortable…safe…like a protective aura…a sense of belonging. He gave himself a shake. Nonsense!

Evelyn sat on the sofa and chatted to Kate while Martin took her luggage upstairs to the room he'd prepared for her. He switched on the bedside light and looked around to make sure everything was satisfactory. He checked the bathroom again – yes the fresh towels were in place. Kate had asked him to buy some flowers which she'd arranged in a vase and he'd placed it on the little table in the sitting area of the room. The heating was on a comfortable setting and he would show Evelyn later how everything worked so she could adjust it to her liking.

He went back downstairs to check on the supper. He'd prepared grilled salmon and roasted vegetables. Kate had assured him that her mother loved salmon. He'd already set the table and when he was satisfied that everything was ready he went to the sitting room and asked them to come through.

Evelyn stood up. "I'm famished Martin and it smells absolutely delicious."

Martin went to help Kate up and she smiled up at him and reached up and stroked his cheek. He dipped his chin and looked to see if her mother had noticed. She had and was also smiling at him. He gave a little cough and hovered behind Kate as she made her way to the table.

The table was perfectly set. Martin uncovered the serving dishes and everyone dished for themselves. Usually he and Kate didn't talk much at dinner but Martin saw a different side to her with Evelyn there. They talked quietly about her trip up to London, about Portwenn and their friends there - who was doing what and about so and so who'd had a baby and someone else who had left to study overseas. They talked about Evelyn's recent trip to Scotland and posters she had seen at Paddington advertising an exhibition on medieval stone masons at the British Museum.

"Are you interested in that sort of thing Martin?" Evelyn asked. After a pause he said, "Yes". Then when both women looked expectantly at him he added that he always made a point of visiting cathedrals from that era wherever he travelled.

Evelyn nodded and said she also did that. "When you are feeling up to it Kate, perhaps we can all go to the exhibition together?" She looked at Kate across the table and then at Martin.

Martin stared back at her, his mouth opened then closed again then he looked at Kate who came to his rescue. "That's a great idea, isn't it Martin? You must let us know when you are not on call." Yes, he said and took a sip of water.

Once they had eaten Martin started to clear the table but Evelyn stood up and told him firmly to take Kate to the sitting room and let her tidy up. He protested but Evelyn fixed him with a look that reminded him so much of Kate when she was determined about something. She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes and said she was quite capable of packing the dishwasher and putting things away. "Now off you go…" And with a quiet, "Yes..." he did as he was told.

They all sat for a while after supper and Martin listened as Evelyn told them about her new book which was set at the time that Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland was being built. Martin was interested as he had read up extensively about the Knights Templar and their influence on modern times. But after a while he could see that Kate was tiring and he said quietly that perhaps she should call it a night and she'd nodded.

Martin showed Evelyn to her room after he'd made Kate comfortable. She was delighted at the beautifully made up room and she marvelled at this formal and erudite man. He'd gone to so much trouble to make things comfortable and ready for her arrival. "Thank you Martin – everything is just perfect."

The rooms in the townhouse were spacious with big windows which she was told looked out onto a park at the rear of the building. It was too dark to see anything now. The townhouse had been beautifully renovated and had modern bathroom facilities and plenty of wardrobe space. When she went to unpack her suitcase and opened the doors to one of the wardrobes she saw some of Kate's shoes neatly packed in the bottom. She smiled. Girls and their shoes! These must be extra pairs for 'special' occasions.

After taking a shower, Evelyn slipped under the crisp, clean linen and switched off the light. She could just hear the very faint hum of the city muted by the double glazing on the windows. It was a much different soundtrack to that of Portwenn with its noisy gulls and the sound of the sea in all its moods.

She lay thinking about Kate. She'd been relieved to find that she was much better than she'd expected and was greatly comforted by how Martin looked after her. The man adored her. It shone in his eyes when he looked at her, it was in his soft voice when he spoke to her and Evelyn had no doubt at all that he loved Kate very much. It was a look she'd seen in Edward's eyes so often. It was most comforting to think that her daughter had found someone who loved her with the same devotion that she and Edward had shared with each other - very comforting indeed.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin got ready for bed and when he finally left the bathroom and went through to the bedroom Kate was lying on her side watching him. Her hair was splayed out over the pillow and he couldn't wait to run his fingers through it. He slid into the bed beside her and lay on his side so that they were facing each other, their heads close together on the pillows.

"I hope this evening hasn't been too much for you?" he murmured as he put out his hand and played with a strand of her hair. "You will tell me if you are in pain won't you? If your head starts hurting…"

Kate stroked his cheek. "I'm fine…really. I am a bit tired…but in a good way." Her eyes were soft and filled with tenderness. "Thank you Martin."

He frowned slightly, "What for?"

"For everything. For making my mother feel welcome…for preparing her room…for cooking such a lovely meal," she touched his lips with the tips of her fingers, "for looking after me…"

He ran his hand through her hair and cupped the back of her neck. "It's nothing…"

"It's not nothing…you're an extraordinary man." She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Hold me Martin."

He frowned. "Umm…maybe not…"

She narrowed her eyes.

Whenever she asked him to hold her in that tone of voice, it always led them down a passionate path. "Umm…you are still recovering." He gave a little cough. "And besides your mother is across the hall…"

"So? Both doors are closed." She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Martin's eyes went wide and round.

Kate smiled mischievously. "You don't expect to live like a monk while my mother is here do you? Mmm? I don't want that..."

Her hand slid slowly from his shoulder down his arm and onto his hip then under his t-shirt and up his bare chest. "Mmm…I love your chest…so smooth and strong…" she whispered. Her hand slid down to his belly and under the elastic of his pyjama pants.

He jerked back. "Kate…!" he whispered urgently.

"Mmm?"

"We shouldn't…"

"Shut up and kiss me Martin…" she said smiling and her eyes were languid. She leaned in until their lips met in a deep and tender kiss…slow and sensuous. Kate's caresses were driving him insane and when he opened his eyes he could see hers were half closed with desire.

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice was deep and breathless.

"You won't." She tugged his pyjama pants down and slipped her leg over his hip pulling him closer until they joined and he gave a soft groan of pleasure as they became one. They made slow and gentle love lying on their sides, their eyes locked and their caresses soft and tender. Martin's hand cupped her bottom pulling her closer. He was careful not to put pressure on her bruised side. Their mouths explored slowly and they whispered words of love until they slowly and inevitably reached their peak. Kate buried her head in his neck to stifle her cries of pleasure as the ecstasy overtook her and she heard him groan softly against her hair. Afterwards they lay close together until their hearts settled back into a calmer rhythm. Kate heard Martin's breathing even out and knew he was falling asleep. She looked at his face in the darkness - he looked relaxed, his brow smooth and her heart was filled with tender love for this gentle and enigmatic man. She never got tired of looking at him. There were so many layers to him and she hadn't yet found one that she didn't like. They each evoked different responses in her but he was a good person right through. The timid and scared little boy in him was slowly showing his face and starting to trust but she knew it would be a long while before he came fully out of the shadows. And that was fine by her. She also knew that he would be a little tense with her mother being there but on the plus side her mother wasn't an intrusive or demanding person. She always just blended in and was practical and good company. She was sure that Martin would eventually relax around her. She hoped so because they were the two people she loved most in the world.

Kate waited until she was sure Martin was asleep then slipped carefully from the bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up. She looked at her face in the big mirror over the marble-topped basin cabinet. The bruises on the side of her face looked hideous but only because they were now all the colours of the rainbow. Martin had said that it meant that she was healing fast. Her wrist was also still strapped up but didn't cause her any discomfort or inconvenience. Under her sleep-shirt the bruises down the left side of her body were the same mottled colour as her face and it still hurt when any pressure was applied. She would be stiff for a while to come but generally she felt a lot better than she looked. She'd been lucky. She thought of the gorgeous man lying in the next room and felt so grateful for his care and his concern for her. As she slipped into the big bed next to him he stirred and his arm went out and pulled her close and he murmured her name in his half sleep. She lay back and felt his warmth and smelt his clean male scent and she felt content and full of love for him. She fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Apologies for the lengthy delay between posts - other commitments had to take priority for a while. Thank you too for all the supportive PMs and reviews! It is very encouraging and I appreciate them very much.**


	38. Chapter 38

Kate woke and stretched out her hand to find the bed beside her empty. Martin was already up. She could hear him in the shower and it wasn't long before he came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. It reminded her of the second time she'd ever seen him and he'd been dressed exactly the same way. She'd been attracted, more than she'd realised at the time, to the stern looking but physically attractive surgeon.

She watched as he padded across the darkened room to his wardrobe and quietly opened the doors. He pulled the towel off and threw it onto a nearby armchair and she was treated to a view of his beautiful, lithe, naked body as he pulled on his boxers. He then stood for a moment surveying his large collection of suits. They were arranged by colour - from black, through various blues to various greys. He selected light grey and pulled the trousers on leaving the top undone as he sat down on the armchair to put on his socks. There was not an ounce of fat on his body, his belly was flat and his chest broad. He looked gorgeous like that and she was tempted to call him so she could run her hands over his smooth skin but he needed to be at work early for his rounds so she thought better of it and just lay watching him dress. His shirts were colour-coded the same way as his suits. He took out a pale grey one and put it on, buttoning up all but the top button, then carefully folded his cuffs and lined up the holes. From a box he selected a pair of cufflinks and fastened them through the holes then tucked his shirt into his trousers.

Kate loved watching him dress - she found it just as sexy as undressing him. His tall frame and long legs looked so good in his perfectly tailored trousers with the shirt tucked in like that. He glanced over towards the bed as he was fastening his belt and saw her watching him.

She gave him a lazy smile. "Morning sexy." Her voice was husky with sleep.

His mouth twitched and he walked to the bed and sat beside her. "Good morning beautiful." He stroked her hair and leaned over to give her a tender kiss.

"Beautiful?" She pointed to the bruised side of her face. "I don't think this new colour scheme suits me at all."

He looked at her in that soft and indulgent way. "You are always beautiful." He trailed his fingers over her lips then bent to kiss her softly again.

Kate ran her hand up his chest and stroked his cheek. "You better finish getting dressed before I start taking all your clothes off again mister." Her eyes were half closed and her voice sultry.

Martin had no doubt that she would do just as she said so he got up and went back to the wardrobe and selected a blue tie with a light diagonal stripe. She watched as he tied the intricate knot in a few deft moves, doing up the top button of his shirt before he pulled the knot neatly into place. Then came the shoes. He had several pairs. To her eye they all looked the same, but he'd indignantly told her they weren't. "There are differences – if you look properly."

"But they're all the same colour…and style...black lace-up." He'd given her a puzzled look as if to say, 'what's that got to do with anything?' But just like all of his clothes they were impeccably made and maintained. Lastly he shrugged into his jacket, buttoning only the top two buttons. She'd asked him once why he never buttoned the bottom one and he'd looked appalled. One _never_ does up the bottom button, Kate. It is just not done!

When he'd checked himself in the full-length mirror and was satisfied with what he saw, he walked to his side of the bed and picked up his wallet from the bedside pedestal and slipped it into his back pocket. Then he leaned over to kiss her goodbye. "Try and get some more sleep. And don't tire yourself out today…"

"Yes sir," she said giving him a mock salute then blew him a kiss as he opened the bedroom door and left the room.

Martin went quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen. It had just gone 6 am as he began to prepare his espresso machine. He had time for one quick cup before his taxi arrived. He watched the rich, dark coffee decant into the espresso cup. He was lost in thought as he pictured Kate lying in their bed with her hair splayed out over the pillow and her bare shoulder peeping out the top of the duvet. If he didn't have rounds this morning he would have…"

"Morning Martin."

He jumped and put a hand to his chest, his eyes round as saucers as he spun round.

Evelyn looked alarmed. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you. Are you alright?"

Martin gulped in a deep breath. "Yes…umm…good morning."

Evelyn was already dressed. She was obviously an early riser. "You're probably not used to anyone being in your kitchen at this time of the morning, are you?"

"Umm…no." He gave a little cough as his heart settled back into its normal rhythm. He eyed her warily as she put her laptop and a folder down on the kitchen table then looked at him again.

"Umm…would you like some coffee…or anything?" he asked with his chin tucked in like an apprehensive schoolboy.

"I would love some coffee thank you Martin." She stepped closer. "Perhaps you could show me how to use your machine. It's a little different to mine at home."

Martin obliged then watched as she followed his instructions and prepared her own shot. He grunted his approval, then downed his own espresso and rinsed his cup.

"Are you off?" she asked and he nodded as he dried his hands on a tea towel. "By the way," she said as she took her cup from under the nozzle of the coffee machine, "I will cook this evening so no need to bother about anything."

He stared at her for a moment with that open, intense gaze. He wanted to tell her that he only cooked with olive oil and used salt in moderation; that only natural herbs and spices would do, none of the ready-made sauces and junk filled with monosodium glutamate that cluttered the supermarket shelves these days. That she should avoid too much refined carbohydrate and that vegetables should be lightly steamed and not overcooked in water. But he thought better of it and instead answered with a "Yes…" that was half statement, half question. Evelyn had come to recognise this as his standard acknowledgement when he didn't know what else to say. It was good enough for her.

Martin walked into the sitting room then turned slowly. "Umm…If you like…umm…you could use the study if you want to work there." He pointed to the kitchen table. "It's...more comfortable than this…"

Evelyn's face broke into the same bright smile that Kate's did when she was pleased. "Why thank you dear. That's very kind of you. I do prefer sitting at a desk when I am working otherwise I daydream too much." She chuckled and sipped her coffee.

"Yes…" he said again and walked towards the front door.

Evelyn smiled. It would take a while before Martin would relax in her presence and she wasn't going to push him. They would find their way around one another eventually.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate and her mother spent a relaxed day together. In between working and chatting Evelyn made sure that Kate took her medication as Martin had instructed. He phoned Kate at lunch time in between patients and Evelyn heard her give him an update on how she was feeling. "Yes I am really fine…no…no more headaches…yes I am resting…mmm...Mum made lunch…and yes I have taken my meds." She paused as she listened to something he said then, "Yes I'll see you later my darling man. By the way, Mum sends her undying love because you showed her how to use your coffee machine – she says you'd make a fine barista and you'll never be without work." Kate laughed softly, "Yes Martin that _was_ a joke." Evelyn shook her head at Kate. The poor man.

Just after lunch she asked Kate where the nearest supermarket was and was told it wasn't too far – they could easily walk there but Evelyn wouldn't hear of Kate coming out with her. "Instructions were that you are to rest today, Catherine and I absolutely agree with Martin." She looked out of the big bay window in the sitting room. "And the weather doesn't look all that great either. I won't be long and if I have too many parcels or it rains too hard I will take a taxi back."

A little later Evelyn stepped onto the pavement and set off at a brisk pace in the direction Kate had said she should take. It had stopped raining and she enjoyed the fresh, cold air on her face. Although she loved Portwenn and the relative peace of the village, she sometimes enjoyed the hustle and bustle of London, albeit in small doses. Whenever she came up to the city she would fill her time with things to do after whatever business was taken care of. Usually business took the form of meetings with her publisher Peter Fallon and Sue Foxcroft her editor and also Angie Portland, who took care of her publicity. Edward had always referred to them as the three musketeers. Their gatherings were always busy but informal and usually ended with a lunch or dinner somewhere. The meetings were also very animated but constructive and she enjoyed their company very much – they had known one another for many years. Evelyn had arranged to meet up with them the following week and they'd been delighted because it was unexpected but when they heard the reason for her being in London they'd all shown concern and Peter called her every day to get an update on Kate's progress. They had all known Kate since she was a child – from the time that Fallon Publishing had published Evelyn's first book.

Peter and Angie were delighted to get an early opportunity to discuss the publicity for her new book which was already in its first draft. Pre-launch press releases were being planned and it made Evelyn's head spin with all the new ways of doing it. She learned that she had an official Catherine Penhallow Twitter account and a Facebook page, neither of which she ever visited herself. Angie always gave her feedback on what was happening on that front and also on the various fan pages that had mushroomed. "It's a useful way of finding out what the fans are chattering about. Not everything should be taken seriously of course but there are some 'threads' that are interesting and have depth. And of course it gives us a good idea of where the fans are located. That together with who's buying helps us to set up facetime with the fans – they are our ambassadors – word of mouth is still the best marketing tool." Threads and facetime - it took a while for Evelyn to embrace this whole social media thing but it obviously had massive traction and shouldn't be ignored. Angie was astute in how she scheduled Evelyn's public appearances, arranging all of her interviews and press releases and, together with Peter, all the book signings. Next year would be a busy one once the book came out in the spring. She looked forward to it.

Evelyn found the local branch of Waitrose quite easily. She'd decided that she would make chicken lasagne with a side salad for supper. Kate had said that Martin wasn't keen on red meat but he didn't mind chicken or even pasta occasionally.

The supermarket was well stocked and she soon had everything she needed excepting coffee beans. The special coffee beans that Martin liked would have to be ordered but she thought she would ask Kate where Martin usually bought his when she got back. She couldn't drink coffee every day and not replenish the supplies.

When she got back she found that Kate had fallen asleep on the sofa with her novel resting on her chest. She quietly went about unpacking the groceries and then spent another hour working in Martin's study. His desk was big enough for her to sit at without disturbing any of his things. Just like the rest of the house, his study was meticulously tidy. The only thing that looked untidy was a tray with the innards of a clock spread out on it but she could see even that had been arranged in a particular way. It was so different to her own workspace at home. Hers was cluttered with books and papers. There were family photos everywhere and photos of her book signings and awards. Kate made a point of having them framed and sending them to her. Martin's workspace was devoid of any of that and she knew that he'd received plenty of awards – she'd seen articles and photos on Google. There were no family photographs – not surprising really judging by what Kate had told her of his parents and he had no siblings as far as she knew. There was of course Joan for whom he seemed to care – but no photos of her even so. The only clue to the man was in his collection of books – they reflected his interests and there were quite a number: medicine obviously and many classic novels but also antique clocks and biographies ranging from classical composers to pioneers like Shackleton and Isambard Brunel. There were books on travel and surprisingly, also quite a big collection of poetry. He had a broad taste, from Shakespeare to Wilfred Owen. Well well…clearly there was a non-clinical, romantic side to the man, something she'd also picked up on in the little things Kate had told her about him. Like him bringing her a flower on her birthday and buying her a little water-colour of a Parisian boulevard because she liked Paris. Yes there was a lot more to Martin Ellingham than the well-dressed, brilliant surgeon that presented his stern face to the world.

At about four, Evelyn went through to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea and also began to prepare the filleted chicken for the lasagne. Kate woke and joined her after she'd been upstairs to freshen up. Evelyn looked at her with a critical eye when she came to sit at the kitchen table. She looked rested but a little quiet and she didn't press conversation on her but Kate was happy to rub the mushrooms in preparation for the sauce Evelyn was making. Once the lasagne was all layered in the oven dish, she covered it and went upstairs to freshen up. She would pop the lasagne in the oven at five. Kate said that all going well Martin usually came home between six and seven so she'd aim to have everything ready by six at the latest.

Just after five Kate heard the front door open and smiled as Martin came into the sitting room from the hallway. He looked as fresh and dapper as he had when he'd left their bedroom that morning. He came straight to where she lay on the sofa. She put aside her Sudoku puzzle and shifted up so he could sit beside her. She patted the sofa cushion but Martin hesitated and looked around.

"Mum's upstairs…" She crooked a finger at him, "Come here gorgeous," and he came closer and sat beside her.

She smiled at him and put her hand up to stroke his cheek. His eyes roamed over her, assessing every detail before he bent down and put his lips to hers. "Hello," he said.

"Hello…how was your day?"

"Busy." When she didn't speak it was a signal that she wanted him to elaborate and he went on, "Two procedures…straight forward stuff…then consultations and a department meeting with Simon." She knew he liked Simon very much so that couldn't have been a hardship for him. "And…umm…he sends his best to you…as does Arthur Braithwaite…"

Her face lit up. "How nice of them…they are nice aren't they Martin?"

Martin grunted then lifted his hand and in it he held a small leather zip pouch. "I brought my ophthalmoscope…just to check for any signs of papilloedema." When Kate frowned he said quickly, "Standard procedure for a head injury…nothing to worry about."

He cupped her chin and turned her head to look at the bruises on her face. They were healing nicely. The lump had gone down almost completely. Yes it was looking good. She'd had no significant pain for a few days and he was greatly encouraged by that but he still wanted to check her eyes for signs of intracranial pressure. "How are you feeling? Any dizziness…nausea?"

The last thing Kate felt like was a medical examination. She wished Martin would just be with her and not fuss so much. She looked at him– his eyes were soft and full of concern and she didn't have the heart to tell him not to. Being a doctor was Martin to his very core – it defined who he was and it was how he showed that he cared. So she smiled and said "No…and I feel much better now that you're home…I missed you."

He stroked her cheek gently then unzipped the pouch and assembled the scope. "Let's have a look." He leaned forward, putting his hand to the side of her head and brought the instrument close to her left eye. "Look straight ahead." He was so close that she could smell his scent and feel the electricity emanating from his body – he always had an effect on her and she felt her pulse quicken. His mouth was inches from hers and she couldn't resist - she lifted her chin and leaned closer and her lips touched his. She pulled at his bottom lip with hers and because he couldn't stop himself his lips parted and he kissed her back. Eventually he pulled back a little. "Kate…I can't possibly do this examination if you…" She pulled his head closer and smothered his words with her mouth and he put his arms either side of her to support himself and their kiss deepened. When Martin lifted his head…he was breathless. "Kate…we'd better not…"

"Why not?"

"Well because…you know…?"

She grinned at him. "Because my mother is upstairs…?" Her hand slid up his thigh to the top and he jumped. "Kate!" he gasped trying to be quiet and moved quickly so he was sitting sideways. He tried to look stern but didn't succeed. She looked adorable and if they were alone he would have made love to her right there. But instead he mumbled in a gruff voice, "Let me finish my examination..."

"OK," she said and lifted her head and opened her eyes wide. He should have known that she sounded far too meek and when he brought the ophthalmoscope up to her right eye she gave him exactly one second to get a look at the retina before he felt her mouth on his again. Her tongue grazed his lips and it felt so good and he leaned into her and tasted her sweet mouth. "Mmm…" she hummed against his lips.

The sound of a door closing upstairs and Evelyn's tread at the top of the stairs had Martin pulling back. But Kate had her hand behind his head and pulled him closer, her mouth moving firmly over his. Martin was horrified. Her mother would be turning onto the landing any second and would see them. He pulled away and whispered urgently, "Kate! Your mother…!"

She grinned mischievously at him and released him. He was flustered and blushing as he looked at her from under his furrowed brows as if to say 'just you wait Kate Rushton'.

Evelyn smiled when she saw him. "Hello Martin – you're early." His face looked flushed and she looked at Kate and saw her biting her bottom lip trying not to laugh. Evelyn watched this little exchange and suspected that Kate had given him a resounding welcome home kiss and that Martin was very self-conscious about it. Oh Kate, she thought and grinned inwardly. The poor man.

"Yes…umm…a patient cancelled." Martin gave a little cough and packed his ophthalmoscope back into its leather case then stood up, eternally grateful that his jacket covered him and any potential evidence of their recent passion. He dipped his chin, "I'll just go upstairs and freshen up." He frowned at Kate as he caught her impish smile.

When he'd gone upstairs Kate came through to the kitchen while her mother checked the progress of the pasta dish in the oven. She helped make the salad and set the table and it wasn't long before they were all seated and enjoying the tasty meal. Even Martin's food radar couldn't detect anything too unhealthy and he finished a good size portion.

Martin listened to the chatter between mother and daughter as they ate. When he was growing up meals were silent affairs and he and Kate didn't talk much either but now he realised that she was only quiet because he didn't talk – that it wasn't from choice. Clearly the Rushton dinner table had never been quiet. It was something he'd never known about her and he wondered if she found the silence awkward when they were having meals together. At least the conversation between Kate and Evelyn was interesting and although he didn't participate much he listened with great interest, looking up from time to time to find Kate looking at him. She'd smile encouragingly at him and then continue eating.

Once they'd finished Martin cleared the table and packed the dishwasher. He wanted to spend a little time on his latest clock but he wondered if Kate expected him to sit with her and her mother. He got his answer when he went through to the sitting room. "Martin usually spends some time on his clocks after dinner, Mum. I can see he is itching to begin." With great relief he nodded and said, "Yes…" and beat a hasty retreat to his study.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	39. Chapter 39

"If I have to stay inside _one_ more day Martin I will go stark raving bonkers!"

Kate was up and dressed even though it had only just gone 8 am. Martin had already done his rounds and, it being a Saturday he was back home and they'd just had coffee together in the kitchen. Evelyn had come in from a walk in the nearby park and had gone upstairs to shower.

Martin paused at Kate's sudden outburst then meticulously continued folding the drying cloth as he looked at her standing across from him. "Kate, I don't think it's…"

Kate put up her hand. "Stop right there Martin. I don't want to hear about intracranial pressure or delayed onset _whatever_ …I just want to go out." She tossed her hair back, "I am not asking to go skydiving for goodness sake, just a walk...a drive… _anything_ \- but I am _not_ staying indoors today."

Kate's expression was militant; it was an expression he knew so well. He'd seen it when she'd confronted him in his consulting room about that clumsy nurse and when she'd let him have it about his comments about Peterson. Her chin was up and her eyes narrowed. "I have cabin fever Martin. I have been cooped up for almost two weeks now and I _have_ to get out for a bit."

Martin looked at her for a long moment with his unwavering gaze and Kate's eyes began to smoulder in anticipation of a lecture about her health or the perils of overdoing things. The sparks ignited in her eyes as he stepped closer and she had to tilt her head to look up at him. He lifted an eyebrow and inclined his head slightly and said softly. "Alright…where would you like to go?"

Kate opened her mouth then closed it again and looked suspiciously at him. "What's going on…what are you up to?"

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean? You want to go out and I asked you where you want to go."

"Oh…ok." She frowned at him. "You just gave in far too easily. But since you asked, I'd like to go to that inn we once had lunch at. Perhaps my mother would like to come too. Would that be alright with you?"

To his credit Martin didn't bat an eyelid. "Yes…" He made to walk past her but she grabbed his arm and pulled him close and her arms slid under his jacket and around his waist. Martin stared down at her and her heart started its habitual flutter when his arms went around her. She lightly kissed his mouth, "Thank you Martin."

He grunted as he felt her hands roam down and rest on his bottom, pulling him closer. His eyes went dark and he murmured in a deep voice, "Where's your mother?"

"She's still upstairs…why?"

"Because you look so beautiful when your eyes flash…it reminds me of our first kiss." He pulled her closer and his mouth sought hers in a scorching kiss. Kate responded enthusiastically until eventually he broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her jaw and into her neck where he loved to bury his face. They stood like that locked in each other's embrace just enjoying being close.

Evelyn, having just come down the stairs, approached the kitchen then stood stock still when she saw the two of them. Her approach had been masked by the thick carpet. Martin held her daughter as if he would envelope her completely and when he lifted his head and looked into her eyes there was such tenderness there as his fingers stroked her cheek. His face was soft and relaxed. Kate pulled his head down and he kissed her so gently and sensuously that Evelyn hastily stepped away and tip-toed to the study to give them some privacy.

She sat at the desk for a moment and thought about what she'd just seen. Martin was so different when he was alone with Kate. He seemed spontaneously affectionate and loving, yet with others he was reserved and unable to relax at all. Kate certainly brought out another side of him. And what about Kate? In Martin she had found a man who was as solid as a rock as far as their relationship went. He was her intellectual equal and on a physical level more than compatible judging by the kiss she had just witnessed. The only thing that didn't quite gel was that Martin didn't seem to have much of a sense of humour. He was very serious and literal minded and Kate had a wicked sense of humour. But she didn't appear to be suppressing it and he didn't seem to mind it either. That meant there was hope. Over time Evelyn was sure he would lighten up a bit. With Kate around he would have to.

She wondered where their relationship was heading. If she had to guess she would say to the altar but these days one never knew. The younger generation had their own ideas about commitment. But she wouldn't mind Martin as a son-in-law at all. There was a lot of depth to the man – he had a quick mind and was more of a romantic than he let anyone see. You couldn't own so many poetry books without being tuned in to beauty and love. But most of all she wouldn't mind Martin as a son-in-law because he made Kate happy and that made Evelyn happy.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The drive out of London was pleasant and so was the weather for November; it was crisp but mostly clear and the hour seemed to pass quickly. They were soon driving slowly down a tree-lined lane and into the almost hidden car-park of the The King's Inn. Evelyn was delighted with what she saw and of course immediately had to find out about the history of the place. Fortunately the proprietor had compiled a brochure. When he recognised Evelyn he asked for a photograph with her to add to his collection of celebrities who'd visited the inn. Evelyn obliged and then joined Kate and Martin.

Martin had requested the same table that he and Kate had occupied on their first visit and fortunately it was available at that moment in an otherwise almost full restaurant. The view down to the river was wintery now with some of the trees rising stark against the cloudy sky but it still looked beautiful with the immaculate green lawns sloping down to the river where waterfowl busily foraged for food.

A waiter took their drinks order – all of them opting for non-alcoholic beverages. Kate and her mother perused the menu and Martin listened to them eagerly discussing the merits of each dish and finally settling on their choices. Evelyn chose the paella, as did Martin and Kate opted for pan-seared tuna with mushroom risotto and roasted seasonal vegetables.

The conversation at lunch varied greatly as usual. Evelyn looked around the dining room at the dark beams and whitewashed walls. "These coaching inns have a fascinating history. Do you know much about them Martin?"

He considered her question. "No," but continued staring at her as he waited for her to continue.

"When researching for one of my books I discovered that the coaching inns were situated roughly seven miles apart on the main thoroughfares so that fresh teams of horses could be exchanged for the next stage of the journey. The coach would stop over night or long enough for passengers to stretch their legs and have something to drink and then they'd be off again."

Evelyn's face became animated as she talked. She clearly loved history. "Of course the inns themselves became a hub for all sorts of things – not only refreshments and accommodation but also informal trade, repairs that sort of thing – there would have been a blacksmith nearby and possibly a wheelwright." She waved a hand at the elegant room, "It wouldn't have looked anything like the genteel establishment it is today - certainly not outside – it would have been a mucky and very noisy place."

Kate grimaced. "And rather smelly I would imagine with all those horses around."

Evelyn nodded. "Of course parts of the inn would have been kept pristine for the 'quality' as they called the upper-classes but there would have been accommodation for others too – and the taprooms would have been noisy at all hours of the day and most of the night." She sighed and her expression became wistful. Martin had sometimes seen that same expression on Kate's face. "It's such a fascinating part of our history. I always get the feeling that if one chose a quiet spot somewhere in a place like this, one would actually _feel_ the past. It seeps from the stones – like a kind of energy."

Martin considered what Evelyn had just said. What she was describing was the result of brain chemistry and hormones. But instead of analysing her words in those terms and explaining their influence on 'feelings' he suddenly thought of how he felt when he held Kate in his arms or when he read a particularly profound piece of poetry and for once he didn't want to bring chemistry into it. Those feelings were a rock solid reality when one was experiencing them, chemistry or not. Of course he wouldn't take it as far as finding a quiet spot and communing with the past but he got the essence of what Evelyn was saying. With that kind of understanding; that combination between fact and feeling, her novels must be very appealing, he thought.

"Martin?" He looked up and both women were looking at him expectantly with smiles on their faces.

"What?" He gave his nervous little cough and raised his eyebrow.

"Mum asked if you believed in ghosts."

He looked first at one then the other, then frowned deeply. "No."

Kate raised her eyebrows – a signal that he should elaborate. "Umm…I believe that individuals can hallucinate in times of stress…particularly when they are afraid or have been made susceptible to stories of so-called supernatural phenomenon…like being indoctrinated with legends and taboos and the like. So no, I don't believe there is such a thing." He fiddled with his glass, twirling it between his fingers. "I have observed patients who maintain, when under tremendous physical stress, that ghosts of their loved ones or angels have visited them at their bedsides. Umm…it isn't always wise to discount their belief unless the so-called visitation upsets them instead of calming them down. Sometimes it can facilitate healing."

Both women stared at him. This was a side to being a surgeon that not many people knew existed. Evelyn nodded. "That's interesting that a man of science will acknowledge that it could be beneficial even if it's not real or what we perceive reality to be. Quite astounding – but it does take something away from the human experience don't you think - when it is boiled down to mere chemistry?"

Martin looked at Kate. "Yes…" Then turned his attention back to his food.

Another lively debate arose around the ingredients of the paella that Martin and Evelyn had ordered. They both agreed on the use of certain spices in the food but when it came to the authenticity of 'real' paella they differed. There is no single 'real' paella was Martin's point of view, citing that the ingredients altered according to what was on hand whereas Evelyn maintained that each region of Spain had their own specific version of basic paella regardless of what was on hand. In the end they conceded that each had a point. Kate was happy to listen to the conversation - she watched how Martin listened intently as he always did; he'd consider every word before he responded in one concise sentence. Evelyn clearly loved his laconic responses and Kate just loved that the two of them were actually talking, albeit in the form of a very civilised argument. She was so pleased that Martin was trying. She knew how difficult conversation was for him at the best of times.

Martin kept a close eye on Kate in case he detected any signs of fatigue but throughout lunch she seemed quite animated. Her hair covered most of her bruises so one would never say that she'd been in an accident. The only outward sign was a very slight limp when she walked. It was more noticeable after they had walked down to the river after lunch.

"I don't think we should walk much further Kate." Martin had stopped her and was looking down at her with such concern on his face. She looked a little pale. Evelyn had walked on ahead and had disappeared round the bend in the river.

Kate slipped her arm though his and nodded. "OK…I am a little tired now Martin." She put her hand up and stroked his cheek then they turned and slowly made their way back to the inn.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

That evening they had a light meal as none of them were really hungry after their big lunch. Kate had rested once they got home – she lay on the sofa reading while Martin worked on his clock for a while and Evelyn sat with some notes from her editor.

After supper Evelyn excused herself saying that she thought she'd go up and have a relaxing bath and Martin and Kate sat and listened to music for a while. She cuddled close to him as she usually did and his hand gently rubbed her shoulder.

"Your life has been so different to mine. How do you put up with me?" His voice was soft.

Kate sat up and stared at him. "What do you mean Martin? Of course our lives have been different. For a start you're a Londoner and I am a Cornish girl…a Portwenner…can't get more different than that can you?"

His gaze was deep and intense as he tried to formulate words. "No…I meant how you are…with your mother."

Kate's heart melted. She waited for him to continue.

"You talk. A lot…about all sorts of things."

Kate laughed. "Yes we do." Then she became serious as she looked at him. "Is it too much for you Martin?" She stroked his arm. "Will you tell me if it is – if you feel it's too much?"

He shook his head. "It's not that…it's not too much. Umm…it just shows me a side of you that I didn't know…and I wonder…" He stopped and his eyes took on that vulnerable and unsure look she had come to know so well but hadn't seen for a while. She waited for him to continue.

"I wonder if you miss talking…at dinner because we don't talk at dinner...not much anyway…but you do…you like to…and…"

Kate listened to him trying to articulate his thoughts. She took his hand and rubbed it gently. "In our family we talk all the time…yes…but it doesn't bother me if you don't want to talk at dinner Martin. I would tell you if it did. We talk at other times, don't we? And it's fine like that."

Martin turned her hand over and threaded his fingers through hers. "I don't want you to change who you are because of me…because I am different...I like it when you talk…at dinner…or anytime."

"I wouldn't do that. And I love you just the way you are my darling man." She leaned over and nuzzled his neck. "I wouldn't want you any other way." She trailed her mouth to his ear and teased his earlobe – she knew it drove him crazy and she felt him tense and his shoulder lift in a shiver. She sat back and felt the full impact of the desire in his eyes. "I think we should take this conversation upstairs, don't you?" she said softly.

Martin didn't argue.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	40. Chapter 40

Martin entered the surgical ward at 6.30 am and espied the group of registrars waiting at the end of the corridor. There were six this morning, two less than the previous day. He wondered if his remarks about their pathetic diagnostic skills had frightened them off. He certainly hoped so. There was no room for shirkers in his world. He nodded at the ward sister who, as usual, fell into step behind him and they swept past the registrars who scrambled to keep up with them.

The ward rounds were the same as usual with Martin getting frustrated at the lack of initiative on the part of the registrars and the registrars listening with awe to Mr Ellingham's entertaining comments to the patients. Unlike other mornings however, they were also treated to watching Ellingham go into action when a patient went into cardiac arrest. A nurse had interrupted the group and Martin immediately went to the ward where the drama was unfolding. The registrars watched as he quietly took charge. His instructions were precise as he calmly administered to the patient until the monitors showed satisfactory readings again. He ordered the ward sister to have the patient moved up on his list – he would have to operate on her immediately. The chances of it happening again were too great for them to wait.

Martin turned to the registrars and peppered them with questions about what had just happened. He was satisfied that at least one of them had understood what he'd just done and what the prognosis was for the patient. Her surgery would take place in little over an hour. In the meantime they completed the rounds swiftly before Martin left to get ready for theatre. At least his rounds had been more exciting than usual. It was a good start to the day.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

It was well after noon by the time he'd got back to his rooms and showered and changed. He'd just sat down behind his desk with a cup of espresso, his first since that morning, when Mrs Blake knocked and stuck her head round the door.

"Mrs Ellingham is here to see you." She looked intrigued.

Martin looked at her as if she had grown two heads. " _Mrs_ Ellingham?"

"Yes." She waited for his answer.

He would have to have a word with Kate. A joke like this would only cause unnecessary gossip if people thought they were married. He cleared his throat. "Yes…umm...send her in, thank you."

He stood up from behind his desk and walked towards the closed door in anticipation of greeting Kate. He was puzzled. Kate and her mother were supposed to have gone shopping. He hoped nothing was wrong.

The door opened and the words of greeting froze on Martin's lips and his blood ran cold. "Mum!" His eyes were round and his expression shocked. "What are you doing here?" He hadn't seen his mother in over five years.

Margaret Ellingham stared haughtily at her son. "Hello Martin - I see your manners are just as deplorable as ever." Her eyes raked over him, missing nothing and it made him squirm inwardly. She'd always had that effect on him. Even though his appearance was faultless, she would somehow find it wanting.

"Yes…umm...hello Mother..."

His mother was impeccably dressed all in black, her hair perfectly coiffured and her back straight as ever as she stared at him without expression. It was as if he were a child again - unsure of himself and apprehensive. Her disapproval was almost tangible.

He stood aside as she walked further into the room, looking around as she did so. "I see you've climbed the ladder a bit. Not quite at the top though are you? Imperial would have been a better career move." Her voice was disdainful.

Martin kept his expression neutral as he closed the door. He hadn't wanted to be at Imperial. That was where his father had been until his retirement and he'd still consulted there part-time until their move to Portugal a few years ago. The last place he wanted to be was in close proximity to his father so he had accepted positions at various London hospitals until finally settling on St Mary's because of its fine tradition of supporting research. He was more than happy with his decision. He watched his mother sit down in one of the patient chairs, placing her handbag on the one adjacent to her. She had a faint smile on her face. To him it always looked slightly contemptuous - like a sneer. He walked around his desk and sat down. "Why are you here?"

"Your father has died." She said it without preamble and without a scrap of emotion on her face or in her voice.

Martin was completely taken aback. "Died?" He waited for her to elaborate but she just stared at him. "How?" As a doctor how always seemed to warrant more attention than when.

"They said it was a stroke. He died at a private hospital in Lisbon."

Martin digested this information then asked, "Haemorrhagic or ischemic?" She didn't answer and he thought maybe she hadn't understood the medical terminology. "Was it caused by a clot or a bleed?"

" _I_ don't know Martin – does it matter?" she sounded irritated. It was a tone he was quite used to whenever she spoke to him - which wasn't very often.

There was a silence in which Margaret folded the scarf she had taken from around her neck.

"When is the funeral?" Martin's voice was quiet.

"It has already taken place…two weeks ago."

Martin felt his heart constrict. Was he so unimportant that she couldn't find it within herself to contact him in time to attend his father's funeral? He stared at her with that frank, open gaze. "You didn't think to call me and he died _two weeks_ ago?"

"Three weeks ago actually – his _funeral_ was two weeks ago."

Martin pursed his lips - two weeks, three weeks, what did it matter? It was all done and dusted. "And now you're here. Why?"

She took a deep breath. "I need a place to stay while I'm in London. Your father's finances were in a diabolical state. He's left me with hardly any money." She laughed derisively. "Always had some hare-brained business scheme or other on the go. He should have restricted himself to medicine - at least he was good at that." She raised her chin. "I can't stay at the Dorchester as I usually do so I am in some appalling three-star hovel." She looked at him with that imperious, hooded look that discouraged any discussion, "I want to stay with you until I sort out…or rather until _you_ sort out your father's mess. You're still in Kensington I take it?"

Martin balked. He opened his mouth then closed it again and frowned.

"Well?" His mother's voice was sharp.

He cleared his throat and steepled his fingers in front of him on the desk. "Umm...staying with me is out of the question. I already have people staying with me…but I will…"

"Who?" she cut in.

Martin hesitated, not quite knowing how to say it…my girlfriend, my partner? Should he lie and say his fiancé? He knew how his mother would react if he said girlfriend. There would be derision and disdain. She was always critical of anything he did and would be of Kate as well, he had no doubt about it at all. And he couldn't take that.

He took a deep breath and his voice was a little stronger as he said, "Kate Rushton, my partner…and at the moment her mother is on a visit from Cornwall."

Margaret laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. " _You_ have a live-in girlfriend? Wonders will never cease." She sounded incredulous just like everyone else had. "The chit is probably after your money," implying that his apparent wealth was the sole reason anyone would be interested in him.

Martin clamped his jaw. He wanted to tell his mother that Kate was happy just to be with him. She'd told him so many, many times. He still marvelled at it but he had no doubt that she loved him or that he loved her. But however much he believed it, his mother could still instantly take him back to a place where he lost all his confidence and doubted his own worth; where he was merely an irritation and unworthy of attention. He swallowed hard.

"She doesn't need my money. She has more than enough of her own." He stood up suddenly feeling that he had to move. He felt closed in...stifled. "I will pay for a hotel Mother but not the Dorchester. If you are not happy with where you are I will find you accommodation elsewhere." He looked down at her. "Where are you staying?" When she told him he frowned. The hotel was in a respectable part of London and not a hovel by any stretch of the imagination. His mother had clearly become spoilt. No wonder there was no money left. "How long will you be staying?"

"Until your father's estate is wound up."

"I will get my solicitors onto it. You will have to provide me with all the details."

His mother stood up and picked up her handbag. "I will be in touch. In the meantime find me somewhere better to stay." Then she walked to the door and left without a backward glance.

Martin sat down again. He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He was turning forty in just over a week and yet his mother still had the power to make him feel small. She made him feel like he had to justify everything he said or did. He resented her presence. He resented the way she made him feel. He resented that, just as he was finding it easier to truly believe that Kate really loved him and that his relationship with her was normal, his mother could walk in and in one second make him feel that he was a freak; that no-one in their right mind would want to be with him - not for himself anyway - only for his money or his status. Then he thought of Kate. It wasn't true – his mother was wrong. Kate had said it over and over. _I love you Martin…if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life with you._ His mother was wrong. Kate loved him. _I love you just the way you are…I wouldn't want you any other way_. She'd held him that morning and told him again that she loved him. His mother was _wrong...wrong!_. But why did he feel so insecure? She even made his success as a surgeon seem insignificant. _How_ was that possible?

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Mrs Blake stood there with a file in her hand. She took one look at his pale and drawn face and frowned. "Mr Ellingham? Are you alright?"

Martin looked distracted, as if he was looking right through her. "Umm…yes." He got up and walked towards her holding out his hand for the file. "Who's first?"

Mrs Blake eyed him. She had overheard the first part of the conversation when his mother had entered his consulting room. Her desk was close enough and the door had been open. His mother was a cold fish if ever there was one - not a shred of emotion in her. When she'd first walked into reception and had asked for Martin she'd told her that if she hadn't made an appointment she would not be able to see him today. Mrs Ellingham had looked down her nose and said, "He is my son - he will see me." She'd seemed condescending and self-important and Mrs Blake had disliked her on sight and her first impression had now been confirmed. The way she had spoken to her son was shocking - the poor man. If this was the way she had treated him as a child there was no wonder that the man was as closed off and defensive as he was. She could tell that his mother's visit had upset Martin deeply and she felt even more protective of him. That woman better be careful if she ever set foot in her waiting room again. She was just turning to leave when Martin said, "Umm...Mrs Blake…I'd appreciate it if you would do something for me. My mother requires accommodation…a hotel in London…she's dissatisfied with where she is staying now. Could you see if you could find a decent alternative for me…please?"

He gave her the details and Mrs Blake's eyebrows rose. The hotel he mentioned was a really nice one – Mrs Ellingham must be a very critical person to be dissatisfied with it but she didn't bat an eyelid. She was very fond of Martin Ellingham and if his mother upset him, it upset her too. She gave him a smile and said of course she would help then left him and closed the door.

Martin's afternoon was filled with consultations and he gave his undivided attention to each patient but in between he felt himself sucked back into the meeting with his mother. Her judgemental presence had unsettled him. In the taxi ride home he tried to suppress the dark feeling that had settled over him. He did not want to upset Kate…or her mother. When he got home and opened the front door he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before he walked through from the hallway into the sitting room. Kate came to greet him. "Hello Martin." She kissed his cheek but only because her mother was sitting there. Usually her welcome home kiss was much more than a peck on the cheek.

He greeted them both with a "Yes". Kate said that supper was ready if he wanted to eat straight away. Would he like to freshen up first? He nodded. She looked keenly at him - her eyes searching his face. He turned away and quickly went upstairs. Kate had picked up on something. He could tell. He had deliberately kept his demeanour as normal as he could but she had looked intently at him for a second as if she was trying to read his mind. He couldn't fool her.

Outwardly their meal was quite normal. From time to time Kate caught his eye and smiled gently. She and her mother chatted about all sorts of things including fashion and in particular shoes. Martin frowned. Why were women so obsessed with shoes? You could only wear one pair at a time. A few good, sensible purchases would be more than adequate and yet Kate's wardrobe upstairs and in the spare room held possibly thirty pairs. His mind couldn't get a grasp on it. When he'd once asked her whether she'd ever worn all of them she'd just rolled her eyes at him. "Martin…that's not the point...girls like shoes, OK!" He'd thought it prudent not to bring up the subject again. And yet here they were talking about a sale somewhere that they planned to go to. More shoes!

Martin insisted on cleaning the kitchen after supper – it gave him something to do. He'd just finished wiping down the counters when Kate came in and stood next to him. She put her arm around his waist and rested her cheek against his shoulder as he folded the drying cloth at the sink. He stood quite still.

"Is everything alright?" Her voice was soft.

"Yes…"

She tugged at his arm and turned him to face her. Her eyes searched his. She knew something was wrong. Something had happened and Martin was upset – withdrawn. She wondered if he had lost a patient again. It always affected him deeply. But now wasn't the time to talk about it. Her mother was sitting in the next room and Martin looked as if he wanted to escape and be on his own so she put her hand up and stroked his cheek then stood on tiptoe and gave him a gentle kiss then left him and went back to the sitting room. Martin came through a moment later but excused himself and went to his study where he immersed himself in working on his clock.

A couple of hours later he switched off the lights and went upstairs. The others had already gone up. He knew when he got to their room he would have to tell Kate about his mother and he dreaded it. Talking about her brought such ugly feelings to the surface. Unpleasant and hurtful feelings.

Kate was already in bed reading. She looked up as he came in and smiled. He gave a small smile as he undid his tie and pulled it off then shrugged out of his jacket, delaying the moment as long as possible. He changed into his pyjamas then went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He sighed and switched off the bathroom light as he went back to the bedroom. Kate lay with her head propped up against the headboard watching him.

He slipped into bed beside her and she turned and lay on her side with her hair spread out over the pillow the way he loved it but he didn't touch her, instead he lay on his back with his hands folded on top of the covers. Kate shifted closer and he felt her soft body against his side. She rested her head on his shoulder and ran her hand gently over his chest. "Something has happened, hasn't it?

He was quiet for a long moment while he savoured the reassuring feeling of her body next to his and her soft and gentle voice. He took a deep breath. "My mother came to see me today."

Kate went still for a moment then she sat up, leaning on her elbow so she could look at him in the soft light cast by the bedside lamp. She knew he had a rocky relationship with his parents and judging by his withdrawn behaviour the meeting with his mother hadn't gone well. It had upset him very much. She put out her hand and gently stroked his hair from his forehead as if he was a little boy and waited for him to continue.

"My father has died."

Kate's heart melted. "Oh Martin...I'm so sorry." She shifted closer and moulded her body to his and drew him close. His arm went about her shoulders but she felt that he was still a million miles away.

When he didn't speak Kate asked, "Will you go to the funeral? I know they live in Portugal now but..."

Martin shook his head. "The funeral was two weeks ago."

Kate was shocked. And his mother had only told him today? How was that possible?

"Oh Martin…" Kate knew it was futile to say how thoughtless his mother had been. It wouldn't help matters. "There's something else isn't there?"

"Yes...she wants me to sort out my father's estate - apparently it's in a mess." He rubbed a hand over his face. "She wanted to stay here...I told her no."

At that Kate sat up properly. Martin looked at her with her hair cascading around her shoulders. She was so beautiful.

"If you would like her to stay here, my mother could stay at my flat - we could both stay at my flat if it would make things easier for you."

Martin shot up into a sitting position. "She is _not_ staying here!" His voice was grim and in the dim light his face looked like thunder. "This is _your_ home not hers."

Kate watched as Martin battled with his emotions. He didn't speak again but lay down and she lay down beside him, her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist. She felt the rise and fall of his chest under her cheek and could feel the tension in his body. Whatever had taken place between him and his mother had stayed with him all day. His mother still had the power to reduce him to an insecure and torn man. She lifted her hand and stroked his face gently. "I love you my darling man."

Martin suddenly turned and pulled her into his arms. He held her so tightly she could hardly breath. It was as if he was afraid that she would disappear. He buried his face in her neck and she stroked his back. Usually by this time she would be aware of his arousal but tonight he just seemed to want her comfort. She held him tenderly and stroked his hair and face and told him over and over that she loved him and eventually she heard his breathing steady and his arms relax a little as he fell asleep. Several times during the night she felt him reach for her and pull her close and she would wrap herself around him until he fell asleep again. Her heart broke for him. Would he ever be truly free of the shadow of his mother's neglect and cruelty? She didn't know if one could ever be truly free of something so deep-seated but she would make it her life's work to try so that he could find healing in her love.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks everyone for the PMs and reviews. I enjoy interacting with you very much! Pity one cannot respond to Guest reviews but your input is also appreciated.**


	41. Chapter 41

The next morning Kate went downstairs with Martin after he'd showered and dressed. He'd had a restless night but one could hardly tell, he still looked as fresh and as dapper as always. She kept him company as he drank his espresso and they talked quietly about her plans for the day. She was going to do a few things in readiness for their trip to Paris that coming Friday.

"Is there anything you want me to do for you? Shopping, dry cleaning…?"

He asked for a few things from the supermarket and said the dry cleaners would deliver that evening so not to worry on that score.

When he'd rinsed his cup he turned to Kate and held out his arms. She melted against him hugging him tightly around his waist. He looked down at her with tenderness in his eyes, then dipped his head and kissed her so gently that it took her breath away.

"Mmm...mister...that kind of kiss could have serious consequences...such as you being late for work..." She smiled into his eyes, "Very late…"

He grunted and made a move to let her go but Kate held on to him. "You're gorgeous...you can kiss me like that again tonight."

His mouth lifted in a smile and he pecked her on the lips, then he was gone.

Kate and her mother went shopping later that morning and arrived back in the afternoon laden with parcels. Kate decided to make an appointment at her favourite salon for Thursday so that she could have her usual pampering session before their trip to Paris. She was so looking forward to the weekend and she was glad too that Martin was going to have a bit of a break. He'd had a stressful few days and she had no doubt that the next few days would bring more pressure with solicitors and his mother to contend with on top of a busy work schedule.

Her bruises had healed nicely and Martin was satisfied that her wrist was looking good too but he said she should make an appointment with Doctor Fraser before they left. He would probably order an x-ray to check how things were progressing and she'd managed to get an appointment for the next day. Her mother was meeting the Three Musketeers for a business meeting and lunch so that worked out quite nicely.

Kate was setting the table when the doorbell rang. Her mother was upstairs so she put the cutlery down and went to answer the door. She looked at the time - it had just gone 6 pm. Martin had said the dry cleaning would be delivered around this time. She went through and opened the door. Instead of the delivery man, a very smartly dressed woman stood there. She wore severe black and carried a small briefcase in one hand.

Kate smiled. "Hello...can I help you?"

The woman's gaze was frosty. "I'm here to see Martin."

"I'm afraid you can't because…"

"Where is he?" She said looking past Kate.

"He is not here at the moment. Does he know you are coming to see him?" Kate was mystified. Martin would surely not have let a patient know where he lived.

"I don't need to make an appointment to see my son. I said I would call."

Kate's eyes went wide and her heart gave a leap. Martin's mother! Her surprised look gave way to a frosty stare of her own. She was looking at the woman who was responsible for Martin's terrible insecurities, for his inability to believe he was worth loving and when she looked at this woman and her cold face she fully understood why he felt like that. Her first instinct was to shut the door in her face but her good manners prevented her.

She opened the door wider and stood aside. "Please come in. He should be home any minute." She watched Margaret Ellingham walk into the hallway as if she were a duchess, her posture rigid with no glimmer of expression on her face. She entered the sitting room and looked around. Kate got the impression that she was looking with the sole purpose of finding fault and not because she was interested.

"I am Kate Rushton by the way."

She turned a haughty gaze on Kate. "I know who you are."

"Oh...right." Kate assumed Martin had told her. "Please sit down - would you like some coffee or tea?"

Margaret walked to one of the easy chairs and sat down, completely ignoring the offer of refreshment. She slowly removed her black lambskin gloves, all the while focusing her critical gaze on Kate as she stood waiting for a response. Her eyes travelled slowly over her from head to toe. Kate found it insulting but she gritted her teeth and said nothing. This was Martin's mother and she didn't want to aggravate things knowing that Martin had to deal with her and with his father's estate in the coming days.

"So you're Martin's girlfriend." Her tone dripped with contempt. She made the word girlfriend sound like it meant prostitute.

Kate's chin went up. "Yes…"

"And obviously a woman of leisure too. How convenient…"

"Sorry?" Kate could not quite believe what she'd just heard.

"I suppose my son is a good catch financially." She looked around the elegantly styled room. "He can clearly offer a life of luxury if nothing else. He doesn't have much else going for him except his status as a surgeon so it must be his money you find attractive."

Kate's blood began to boil. "That is a malicious thing to say. You know nothing about the relationship I have with Martin. And for your information I have a job and I am financially independent - I don't need anyone's money."

Margaret's expression didn't alter. What Kate didn't know was that Margaret was hiding her surprise. When the door had opened and she'd realised that the woman standing in the doorway was Martin's girlfriend, the first thing she'd thought was how on earth did Martin manage to attract someone so beautiful. If anything she'd expected some buxom, rosy-cheeked girl who'd been star-struck by a London surgeon. God knew her son was no Adonis. He had no personality to speak of - always so serious and dour. He had nothing of his father's charisma at all and yet he'd managed to strike up a relationship with this beauty. She gave a little smile of contemptuous disbelief.

"I suppose his status as a surgeon must have some attraction as well. My son is nothing if not resourceful. How he managed to get through school is a mystery - always pushed around, never standing up for himself like a real man. No backbone - but you will probably come to realise that soon enough. The question is, will his money and status outweigh the contempt you will eventually develop for him." She smiled as if she found this supremely amusing.

Kate's heart was beating as if she'd just run the London marathon. This was a mother speaking about her son; her only child and the only things she could find to say about him were heartless and nasty. She clearly didn't know her son at all. Her chin went up and her eyes narrowed. Margaret Ellingham had no inkling of what that portended and so she went on.

"He's let the side down career wise as well. St Mary's" She gave a derisive sniff. "The word is that he wasn't up to snuff to be asked to join Imperial. Doesn't surprise me. Martin has never been able to take charge."

Kate's voice was low and quivering with anger as she took a step forward. "You clearly don't know your son at all, Mrs Ellingham or you wouldn't be sitting here sprouting all this rubbish about him. His career has been exceptional and he's not yet forty. And another thing, Imperial _did_ approach him but he turned them down. Not only were they short sighted in not recognising the value of his early research but he also wanted to be independent of his father's influence at Imperial. He hasn't let the side down at all. In fact one day it will be _Martin_ Ellingham's name in the history books for his cutting edge research and the procedures he has developed - not his father's name, not his grandfather's. It's not _where_ a man works that makes him great Mrs Ellingham, it's his integrity and his dedication to his calling. Your son has those qualities in buckets and he has more backbone than you could possibly imagine. You have obviously not been paying attention or you would have known about his groundbreaking work and his achievements."

Margaret observed this outburst with her eyebrows raised. "Nonsense. Martin has always been a snivelling observer - never a leader. As a child he was a constant irritation with his whining and his neediness. Just because he is forty doesn't mean anything has changed."

"Martin is his own man - he is not needy and he is a born leader. He founded and heads up the vascular research unit and he is the top vascular surgeon in Britain, if not the world. Where have you been that you don't know this? If he seemed at all needy to you it was because he was starved of love and attention as a child. Having met you now explains everything."

Margaret's face looked like it was carved out of stone. "How dare you...you know nothing of Martin's childhood. He was weak...never speaking up for himself. His father had to teach him lesson after lesson on how to be a man."

Kate couldn't take it. "Your husband was trying to teach a _five_ year old how to be a man? Doesn't something sound a little out of balance with that scenario...mmm? And the moment you could you sent him to boarding school among boys who treated him just like the two of you did - abominably. It was like dropping him into a tank of sharks and leaving him to fend for himself. You never wanted him, you never recognised in him the exceptional intelligence or the loving, sensitive soul he has. At least his grandfather did - he was the only one besides Joan who saw Martin's worth, while you and your husband were being too self-absorbed to notice."

Margaret was just about to lash out at Kate when they heard footsteps on the stairs which had both women pausing in their verbal clash. Kate glared at Margaret as her mother reached the bottom of the stairs.

"I didn't realise we had company, Kate." Evelyn held out her hand to Margaret, "I'm Evelyn Rushton...Kate's mother." Margaret ignored the outstretched hand and Evelyn looked at Kate enquiringly as she dropped her arm to her side. Kate was furious. Between clenched teeth she said, " _This_ is Margaret Ellingham - Martin's mother."

Evelyn felt the strained atmosphere, one could cut it with a knife. She'd overheard most of the confrontation between the two. Kate was livid and her militant expression didn't bode well.

"Mrs Ellingham was just telling me what a failure her son is." Kate's eyes were spitting fire.

Evelyn feigned surprise, "Failure? You're surely not talking about Martin? Have you got another son Mrs Ellingham?" she asked innocently.

Margaret laughed. It was a hollow sound, distinctly lacking in humour. "One child is enough when the first born is so flawed."

Evelyn was just about to speak when Kate chipped in. "The flaw lies with you. You never showed him a scrap of love. And before you accuse him, I never heard this from Martin. Word got around Portwenn about Martin's wonderful parents dumping him at boarding school or with his aunt during holidays while they got on with their perfect lives unencumbered by a child." Kate stared down at Margaret who remained implacable. "I marvel that Martin has been able to overcome his abused childhood and turn into such a loving and gentle man - a man of integrity - despite your despicable treatment of him. My only concern is that Martin is too much of a gentleman to send you packing from his life. You are nothing but poison to him."

They all paused as they heard a key in the front door. It closed and Martin appeared in the hallway entrance. He froze and his face went pale. "Mother…" His attention was riveted on her like it would had she been a cobra ready to strike. He swallowed and seemed uncertain of what to do next.

Kate walked over to him and reached up and kissed his cheek, "Hello darling, your mother was just talking about you." She took his hand and for once he didn't blush and pull away. His gaze remained fixed on his mother.

She stood up. "Is there somewhere we can talk...in private?" She addressed her son as if Kate and Evelyn weren't in the room.

"Yes...in my study."

Kate looked up at Martin and saw the little boy staring back. She smiled into his eyes just as she did whenever she told him how much she loved him and she saw the almost imperceptible response. He knew what she was telling him. She squeezed his hand and let go.

"This way…" He pointed to the study and Margaret preceded him and he closed the door behind them.

Evelyn looked at Kate. She could see how upset she was and that she was only just holding it together. "That is one very coldhearted woman. I heard most of what she said and you handled that very well Kate - couldn't have said it better myself. I would love to have jumped in with a few home truths too but…"

"She doesn't deserve an iota of his attention, Mum." she muttered. "He should send her directly to his solicitors and be finished with her. She destroys him." Evelyn saw that her hands were shaking as she began setting the table again. Every now and then she would stand in the kitchen entrance and look over at the closed study door wanting to go to him, to protect him from that witch.

After half an hour the door opened and Martin escorted his mother to the front door where a taxi was waiting outside. Without even looking at Kate, Margaret Ellingham left and Martin closed the door behind her.

Kate went to him and slid her arms around his waist. "Are you alright?"

His eyes were deep grey in the dim light. "Yes…" His arms closed around her and he held her close with his face buried in her hair.

Supper was quieter than usual. Evelyn tried to keep a little conversation going but she sensed that neither Kate nor Martin were in the mood for talking or even eating for that matter. Martin hardly touched his food and eventually excused himself saying that he had some paperwork to attend to. Kate's heart broke for him. She wanted to go to him but he obviously needed space. She would have a chance to be alone with him later.

After they'd tidied up, Evelyn tactfully said she was having an early night as she had a full day ahead of her. She looked at her daughter and her heart went out to her. How do you help the man you love overcome such a terrible legacy? But she knew that if anyone could do it, it would be Kate.

When her mother had gone upstairs Kate went to the study and stood in the doorway. Martin was working on his clock. He took the loupe out of his eye and turned to her. "I'm almost finished this one." His tone was conversational as if nothing had taken place earlier. "Just have to put everything into the casing."

Kate stood behind his chair and stroked his hair and laid her cheek against the side of his head. Before he could ask she said, "Mum's gone up to bed already."

Martin pushed his chair back and pulled Kate down to sit on his lap. She wound her arms around his neck and gently kissed his lips. "Are you ok?"

His expression was soft. "Yes…" He stroked the hair from her forehead. "My father's estate _is_ in a mess. My mother wasn't exaggerating but my solicitors will sort it out. At least the property in Lisbon is in her name. What she will do for income though still has to be determined."

Kate wanted to say that it wasn't Martin's problem but she bit her tongue. Martin would always do the right thing.

"I wasn't referring to the estate, I'm asking if you are ok."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes locked on hers. "She breaks something in me every time I see her. I can't make it stop...but this time was different." He stroked her hair. "Because of you." His fingers traced the outline of her lips. "She can still make me feel small and inadequate but knowing that you love me...and that you were close by took the edge off it somehow." His eyes were soft.

Kate smiled at him. "I am so happy to hear that Martin. Soon you won't feel that way anymore - she will have lost that power over you." She stroked his face gently. "And I can say with _absolute_ certainty that you are neither small nor inadequate." She smiled mischievously at him and he couldn't help but shake his head and smile back as he drew her close and his lips found hers.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	42. Chapter 42

Kate's visit to Doctor Fraser went well. "The pictures look good Miss Rushton. The fracture has healed very satisfactorily and you won't need to keep it strapped up all the time anymore. But you still have to be careful - no heavy lifting, no bending the joint too much, that sort of thing. It should soon be as good as new." Fraser knew that Ellingham would be keeping a close eye on Kate anyway, so he wasn't too concerned. "Your bruises have almost faded and there are no signs of any complications from the concussion either."

Kate smiled wryly. "Yes...Martin has been peering into my eyes with his ophthalmoscope. I suppose once a doctor always a doctor."

"I'm afraid so Miss Rushton...it's hard for us to switch off. My wife sometimes gets annoyed with me because I always interpret my world in medical terms...always on the lookout for signs of health problems. It must be very annoying so I've learnt to zip my lip to keep the peace."

Kate laughed. "I thought Martin was the only one."

"Definitely not. I think it is a good thing that he checks for any signs of intracranial pressure. Concussion is one of those conditions that's hard to put in a box...everything can look fine for a while and then you might start experiencing symptoms that you think are unrelated. If you notice anything is off...headaches, unexplained fatigue, changes in behaviour or memory, that sort of thing, come and see me right away...or tell Mr Ellingham."

Kate smiled, "Martin would be the first to pick up on it Dr Fraser, he watches me like a hawk."

Dr Fraser looked at Kate and smiled - he had no doubt about that at all.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Evelyn had phoned Kate to say that she would not be home for supper. "We've had a full day of planning and we worked through a light lunch so we're all going out for supper - no more work discussions allowed!" Kate was happy for her mother. They both loved the Three Musketeers - not only were they professionals but they were truly good friends to her mother and had stood by her through thick and thin.

When Martin came home, a little later than usual due to last minute 'issues' as he called them, Kate had made his favourite grilled salmon and roasted vegetables for supper and they sat and ate together and Kate told him about her visit to Fraser and her mother's meeting with her publisher.

Martin seemed a little distracted and Kate was loath to push him for details. She wondered if he'd had to deal with solicitors in between his busy schedule at work. The poor man.

After they'd tidied up Kate thought Martin would head to his study to work on his clock but he drew her onto the sofa and they sat and listened to music in the softly lit sitting room. It was Kate's turn to choose the playlist and she opted for some laid-back pop music. Martin seemed better with it now than when she'd first exposed him to it all those months ago. She lay cuddled against his chest and felt his fingers slowly stroking her arm. He seemed quiet but not in a bad way - more pensive.

"Are you OK?" Kate asked softly.

"Mmm...yes."

"You seem very quiet…"

"No...everything's fine…"

Kate lifted her head to look at him as he lay with his head resting against the back of the sofa and his long legs stretched out in front of him. She knew he was thinking deeply about something but it didn't appear to be worrying him. She undid the buttons of his jacket and slid her hand up to rest on his chest. She could feel it rise and fall as he breathed and it felt comforting.

A song began playing that Kate just loved and she got up slowly and took Martin's hands and pulled him to his feet. "Dance with me handsome," she smiled up at him as she slid his jacket off his shoulders. In the dim light, his face looked etched and the lines between his brows, usually so deep, looked a little smoother. His arms went around her and he bent his head so his cheek lay against hers. Her fingers stroked his hair as they began moving slowly together. _I've been searching such a long time…for someone exactly like you..._ Martin's hands slid down her back and pulled her hips in so that her body was hard up against his and his lips softly caressed her just behind her ear. It sent shivers through her and she pressed closer as she whispered the words of the song against the base of his throat, " _Someone like you - makes it all worthwhile...someone like you - keeps me satisfied...someone exactly like you_." He pulled his head back to look at her and his eyes were soft. The words were so true - she had come into his life and made everything worthwhile. Martin's heart swelled with love and tenderness. His mouth sought hers gently, lightly teasing her lips until he felt them part under his and their kiss became deep and slow and filled with love. When they broke apart he looked at her with a thoughtful expression. Their eyes remained locked as Kate slowly undid his tie and threw it on the sofa, then unbuttoned his shirt so she could kiss his chest, working her way across to his nipple. She heard him draw in his breath and a low groan escaped his mouth. When she looked up at him his eyes were now intense with passion as her hands slid down to his narrow hips and pulled him close. "I would very much like to drag you upstairs Mr Ellingham."

Martin trailed his lips down her neck, "You won't have to drag me…" he murmured. "Why don't you go up so long…" he paused to kiss her mouth softly, "while I lock up down here."

"Mmm...yes...but first..." Kate drew his head down and her kiss was more demanding, igniting a burning urgency in them as Martin's hand rose to cup her breast. At last he lifted his head. Their breath was ragged and Martin's voice was husky, "We'd better go upstairs...we can't…"

Kate pulled back and looked at him, the desire in her eyes quite evident, "We can't what...mmm?"

"Make love here…"

Kate wound her arms around his neck and arched her body against his. "Mmm...now you've given me an idea…"

" _No Kate_...your mother could come home any minute." he pulled back. "Go upstairs and let me lock up here…"

Reluctantly she stepped away from him and his eyes followed her as she made her way up the stairs.

Martin walked to the kitchen with a little smile on his face. He switched off the light and went to his study to close his laptop and tidy his desk. He had just switched the study light out and was gathering his jacket off the sofa when he heard a key in the front door and Evelyn came in. Martin froze.

"Hello Martin." Evelyn looked at him in the dim light of the table lamp. His eyes were round as saucers as he tried frantically to button up his shirt - not doing a great job as his fingers fumbled in his haste. He dropped his tie and bent down to pick it up and muttered, "Hello...umm...you're home..."

"Yes...and ready for bed."

He dipped his chin and coughed, "Umm...yes well...good night then…"

"Goodnight Martin."

He beat a hasty retreat up the stairs and Evelyn grinned giving him a moment to reach his bedroom door then she followed and went to her room. Martin was still so shy - he'd looked like a little boy caught in the act. Oh dear. From what she gathered he was not at all shy around Kate - far from it. And he looked so different in his shirtsleeves. At least he seemed to have relaxed a little after the episode with his mother - Kate's influence she was sure.

Across the hall Kate lay curled up next to Martin, enjoying the warmth of his body. "It's my mother's last day with us on Thursday Martin. What do you think of taking her out to dinner tomorrow evening at our little Parisian restaurant?"

"Yes...that would be good."

"I'll book." She turned and trailed her hand under his t-shirt and up his chest. "And what do you think of inviting Simon to make up a foursome?"

"Simon?" Martin couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "Simon Holden?"

"Yes Martin...Simon Holden. You like him, don't you? And I think he would make good company at dinner."

Martin grunted and tried to analyse where Kate was going with this. When she sounded so matter of fact it always meant that she wanted him to agree with her. "I suppose he would...yes," his voice was cautious.

"Good. Will you ask him or shall I?"

"Perhaps you can? I have a full day tomorrow."

They lay quietly for a moment then Martin looked at her as she lay in the crook of his arm.

Kate looked up at him. "What?"

"Umm...nothing…"

Kate rolled onto her stomach and ran a hand under his t-shirt. Her fingers stroked a pattern over his belly and up to softly caress his nipple. It sent a shiver through him.

"When I went to speak to Simon...you know, about our relationship at work...I liked him. And he likes you. He's very fond of you Martin."

"Fond?" Martin shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes...he told me that you play chess together from time to time. And that you are such a gifted man in so many ways." Her hand trailed down until it slipped under the elastic of his pyjama pants. She heard him hum softly as her hand gently caressed him. "I told him I could vouch for a number of ways that you are exceptionally gifted."

Martin's head whipped around and he sat up leaning on his elbow. "Kate! You _didn't_..." he whispered urgently.

Kate laughed softly into his chest. "I'm teasing Martin. Of course I wouldn't speak of your exceptional talents to others...well not those ones anyway...that's special to us, isn't it?"

"Hmm…" he grunted and lay down again, a slight scowl on his face.

Kate leaned over and gave him a sweet kiss. "No frowns mister...and don't even think of going to sleep yet." She trailed her hand slowly down until she felt him tense and move against her. "You still have some unfinished business."

"Mmm...I know." He pulled her gently until she was lying on top of him and he cupped her bottom and drew her close until they joined and she gasped. They made love slowly and as they neared their peak Martin turned so that he was above her and he brought them to an intense release, both burying their faces so that the sound of their pleasure was muted. When at last Martin shifted to lie beside her, Kate wrapped herself around him and it wasn't long before she fell asleep cradled against his warm, firm body.

Martin listened to her even breathing and smelt the scent of her hair. He could not imagine how he had existed without her before - how he'd spent his days without knowing he would see her, without her lying next to him like this, without her being there when he got home or waking up next to her. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply and fell into a deep and contented sleep.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Dinner at _Toujours_ _Paris_ turned out better than Martin expected. He'd silently questioned Kate's wish to have Simon there but when he saw how easily the two women got on with him he relaxed a bit. Simon had an unassuming demeanour which could easily be misjudged. Apart from his medical degrees, he also held a PhD in history from Cambridge, something he had tackled later in life just because he loved the subject so much. He was someone who never stopped learning but he was also not one to grandstand about his knowledge. It was a trait that had drawn Martin to him and even though there was almost a twenty year age difference between them, Martin never felt that Simon spoke down to him or spoke from a position of authority. He was one of those deeply interesting and quietly spoken people who just seemed to put others at their ease; who made them feel that what they had to say was important.

It was almost 11 pm by the time they got home and Kate went straight upstairs to shower and get ready for bed. Evelyn went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water to take up with her and bumped into Martin as he was coming out of his study as she came through.

"Thank you for a lovely evening Martin."

"Umm...it was Kate's idea…" he dipped his chin, "yes...it was good…"

"Have you known Simon long?"

He looked at her intently as he calculated the length of the relationship, "Eight years...almost."

"He is very fond of you - I could tell."

Martin's eyes went round. "Fond?" Evelyn used the same word Kate had used.

"Yes."

"Well...I don't know about that."

"He is...and it's quite plain that you are fond of him too. It is wonderful to have a friend to relate to like that, don't you think?"

Martin's gaze was open and searching. Eventually he said, "Yes...I suppose it is."

They said goodnight and Martin got ready for bed. He thought about what Evelyn and Kate had said. Fond? Fond was not a frequently used word in his vocabulary. But then he'd never put his relationship with Simon into words before; never thought of him as an actual friend but when Evelyn said it, he'd felt something click into place. Yes, Simon was a friend and it felt good to acknowledge it. Whenever they were together at conferences or meetings, they talked easily, if one could say that Martin ever talked easily. And he liked the man. He always felt that he could go to Simon with any query or problem and he would listen and give his honest opinion without pontificating - a rare trait in his circle of colleagues where pontificating was the norm.

Simon had mentored him at a time when he was just becoming known as a top surgeon and his people-skills then as now, had been sadly lacking. Simon had guided him gently through some very choppy waters. He'd always suggest rather than dictate an approach to issues in administration that frustrated Martin to the point of losing his temper and still could for that matter. He was one of the few people that could defuse a potentially explosive situation and prevent him from letting the proverbial fox loose in the henhouse - much the same as Kate could.

He also liked that Simon didn't talk just for the sake of talking. Sometimes they would meet for a cup of coffee and a game of chess in Simon's rooms and they hardly spoke at all but he enjoyed the companionship - that and the fact that Simon had beaten him at chess a couple of times - a rare event which made things interesting. There was no quarter asked or given and sometimes they would have to play a game over a couple of evenings and it would end in a draw. Yes, Simon played a good game.

Simon had lost his wife to cancer soon after Martin met him and the man had never quite recovered from the loss but he never let it get in the way of his work or his dealings with others. But Martin still detected an underlying sadness in him which was evident when he spoke of his son who was also a doctor or when his glance fell on the photograph of his wife that stood on his desk. He detected the same sadness in Evelyn when she talked about Edward.

Martin looked down at Kate curled up next to him in the bed and he wondered how Simon had survived the loss. How had Evelyn survived losing her husband? Martin's heart constricted at the thought. He wouldn't survive that. He just knew it. A life without Kate would be unthinkable. He drew her close and she planted a sleepy kiss on his chest and her arm tightened around his waist. "Go to sleep my darling man," she murmured softly.

Martin kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The next day was busy with Evelyn preparing to leave for Portwenn and she and Kate sat in the kitchen and chatted for a long time over coffee. Martin joined them later for lunch - he had taken the afternoon off as he had some things he needed to attend to before their trip to Paris.

Kate had loved having her mother with them and she knew that it had been a wonderful opportunity for Martin to get to know her. He seemed to have accepted her presence without any problems. His initial awkwardness had abated although he was still somewhat shy but that would take time. Kate had no doubt that he would eventually relax.

Kate had to leave for her appointment at the salon and said her goodbyes to her mother. She planned to go down to Portwenn for Christmas and was hoping she could persuade Martin to come with her - even for a few days. Evelyn looked forward to that.

When the taxi arrived to take Evelyn to Paddington, Martin carried her bags out and handed them to the driver. Evelyn had got the sense that Martin had been a bit unsettled all through lunch and he stood on the pavement now with his hands twitching at his sides.

When the driver was stowing the luggage in the boot, Evelyn turned to him. "Thank you for everything Martin." She smiled up at him, "And especially for how happy you have made Kate."

Martin looked down at her and hesitated. "Yes...and umm...I want you to know...that I…"

He looked agitated and Evelyn smiled encouragingly at him as she waited for him to continue.

"I want you to know...umm...that I want to...umm ask Kate to marry me...that's if she will have me…" His voice petered out and he looked down, unable to meet her eyes as a faint blush rose in his cheeks. If he had looked up he would have seen Evelyn's eyes melt just the same way Kate's did when she was overcome with emotion.

"Oh Martin...that's wonderful news," she said softly and stepped closer. "She loves you very, very much...she never stops telling me and I know she will be over the moon when you do."

She put a hand out and touched his arm. "Martin...I'm going to give you a hug." Martin looked up in alarm. "If you are going to be my son-in-law you better get used to it...starting now." She put her hand on his shoulder and stood on tiptoe to peck his cheek and put her arms around his shoulders. For a moment he stood rigid but then she felt his arm go around her as he awkwardly hugged her back before they stepped away from each other. Martin dipped his chin and tugged at his ear. "Yes...umm...goodbye...safe journey." He held the door open for her.

"Goodbye Martin…and I expect to see you down in Cornwall for Christmas."

"Yes…that would be good."

The taxi pulled away and Martin watched until it disappeared round the corner at the end of the street. He sighed deeply as he went back inside. He'd felt nervous speaking to Evelyn about his intention to ask Kate to marry him. It made it real, that someone else knew and he felt the nervousness take hold in him again. Being in a relationship was one thing, asking Kate to marry him was entirely another. To him marriage was a threshold to a different level in their relationship. It suggested a lifelong commitment, it suggested permanence, something he had never experienced in a relationship before - not with his parents or even Aunty Joan. And he craved that.

He didn't feel nervous wanting to cross that threshold - anything but. He'd heard colleagues talk about getting married as if they were heading to the gallows and he'd always wondered why they wanted to do something that was clearly going to make them unhappy. He knew that it was part of a male bonding ritual - the idea of men being mutually deprived of their bachelor pursuits by the 'ball and chain' or 'losing their freedom' and that they commiserated with one another with these stupid utterances. It was silly. Why would one want to marry if one felt like that? Kate never made him feel that way. With her he felt fulfilled, he felt whole - and more than anything he wanted to marry and be with her for the rest of his life.

He did feel nervous about proposing though, but not because he would be losing his freedom. Far from it. With Kate he felt more free than he'd ever felt in his whole life. He was nervous because they had never discussed marriage and he wasn't sure how Kate felt about a step like that. She'd spoken to him about some of her friends who were married and sometimes he got the impression that she thought they were unhappy or 'going through a rough patch'. She would shake her head and say that sometimes people didn't realise that marriage is not easy. He'd never wanted to ask why she said that. She had once said that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him but marriage had never come up and that was the only reason he was nervous.

He too wanted to spend the rest of his life with Kate but even though he knew she loved him, it was no guarantee that marriage was a given. He'd seen colleagues eschew marriage for a more modern partnership - it was much less complicated legally they seemed to think. But Martin couldn't accept that. He'd often look at Kate and wondered what it would feel like for her to be his wife. Would it feel different to what he felt for her now? Would it make any difference at all? He felt they had already committed to each other - he couldn't love her more. Would a ceremony and a signature on a piece of paper change anything? And the answer for him was yes it would. He wanted Kate to be his wife and more than anything he wanted to be her husband. He wanted to have that extra level of commitment and if truth be told, he wanted to belong to her and he wanted his beautiful, beloved Kate to be his...together for all the world to see.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **There is a wonderfully edited music video set to the song "Someone Like You" by Van Morrison on YouTube. Search for "Martin & Louisa - Someone Like You" and enjoy. **

**Thank you to all who faithfully read my story and send me such encouraging messages. You make writing worthwhile.**


	43. Chapter 43

St Pancras station in London is one of those places that never fails to impress. Even Londoners aren't immune. Its gothic-style architecture dominates one's senses and gives one just a glimpse of the grand vision the Victorians had of themselves and their place in the world. It was just after one thirty when the taxi dropped Kate and Martin off in the busy street outside. Martin had insisted they should be there at least forty five minutes before departure even though he'd booked Premier class tickets which only required them to be there ten minutes before. He looked at his watch - now there were only twenty minutes to go and he frowned. He didn't like being rushed.

Kate had managed to make them a little late leaving Kensington by remembering a last minute item upstairs which made Martin's scowl deepen with every second that passed. Eventually, sitting in the taxi she had stroked his arm and he'd stared down at her with that forbidding look - a look she hadn't seen in a long time - well not when directed at her anyway. "Sorry," she mouthed at him and his face relaxed a little as she squeezed his hand. She didn't tell him that the delay had been caused by her remembering a favourite pair of ankle boots that went well with her black Levi jeans.

Inside the red brick building the immaculate concourse was a hive of activity. Fridays were especially busy and the train was full but they had good seats and the extra leg-room made Martin a little more comfortable. Kate could hardly contain her excitement. Not only was she going away for a long weekend, but she was going with Martin and the destination was Paris.

The journey seemed to pass quickly. They both had reading material but Kate eventually slipped her arm through Martin's and rested her head on his shoulder. From time to time he would look down at her deeply burnished hair cascading over his arm. His heart felt full and there was a sense of wonder that this beautiful woman wanted to be with him and didn't mind who saw it.

When they arrived at Gare du Nord Martin hailed a taxi. She heard him speak to the driver and picked up the words Shangri-la and her eyebrows went up. The hotel was one of the premier hotels in Paris. On arrival there they were shown to a room overlooking the Seine and the Eiffel Tower opposite. Kate opened the terrace door and stepped out into the frosty air to admire the view while Martin dealt with the porter. It was already getting dark and lights were coming on all over the city. Eventually she heard Martin come up behind her where she stood at the balustrade. She felt a shiver run through her as his arms slipped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm being very spoiled for my birthday Martin." She tilted her head back and she felt his mouth brush her neck, trailing little kisses up the side of her jaw until she turned in his arms and sought his mouth in a gentle and sensual kiss. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned back slightly so she could look into his eyes. They were deep grey, reflecting the darkening sky and they held a pensive, almost questioning look. He gave a little smile and his hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

"You deserve to be spoiled…" he paused to kiss her lips, "Happy birthday…"

Kate moulded herself to the warmth of his body and they clung together just enjoying the feeling of being close.

Eventually Martin asked what she would like to do for supper. "Oh I don't mind...I am just so happy to be here with you...a sandwich on a park bench would feel like dinner at the Ritz."

Martin frowned, "Kate...it's too cold to eat outdoors...and it's dark…perhaps we should…" he dipped his chin, "Oh...you weren't being serious..."

She smiled, "No Martin…" and ran her fingers through his hair, "Let's take a walk and see what we can find...mmm? Somewhere close-by."

"Umm yes...tomorrow night I have booked for us go on a dinner cruise...down there," he said pointing at the Seine and the brightly lit Eiffel Tower, "that's if you would like to go?"

Kate's face lit up. "Yes!...that sounds absolutely wonderful." She punctuated her words with little kisses all over his face and he smiled indulgently at her.

After unpacking, they left to go for a walk and to find somewhere to eat. The weather was cold but no rain was forecast and they joined throngs of people taking advantage of the reprieve in the weather to step out and see Paris on a clear winter's evening. They found a busy bistro not too far from the hotel. At first Martin thought it looked too crowded but Kate said it looked happy and buzzing.

Happy? Buzzing? He'd never chosen a restaurant because it looked happy or buzzing. Hygienic or nutritious yes but he thought it prudent not to question her whimsical reasons for choosing this place to eat. They only had to wait ten minutes before a table for two became available and it was near a window much to Kate's delight. Her face was animated as she looked around and Martin was mesmerised by her. The place certainly was popular - if one listened one could hear almost every language at the surrounding tables. A young, bearded man played an accordion which added to the warm and friendly ambiance.

All the way through their delicious meal, Kate felt Martin's eyes on her. It was as if he couldn't get enough of looking at her. At one point she slid her hand across the red gingham tablecloth to cover his and he gripped her fingers as his eyes locked with hers. He looked uncertain, shy almost, as if he wanted to say something but then looked down and continued with his meal. Kate was content just to listen to the chatter around them and the sounds of the accordion and when the musician began playing La Vie en Rose her eyes became dreamy. She didn't care that they played it just for the tourists, she loved it and her eyes were filled with happiness as she smiled at Martin across the little table. She felt his fingers touch hers again and his eyes were soft and hooded. God he was so sexy when he looked like that.

On the way back Kate slipped her arm through Martin's and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. She smiled up at him. He looked handsome in his dark cashmere coat with a dove grey scarf tucked into the front...smart and dapper as always and the French so loved a well-dressed man.

It had now become so cold that their breath made little clouds whenever they spoke and Kate's cheeks were pink by the time they reached their room. She unwound her scarf and pulled it free and began to undo her trench coat belt. Martin had already taken off his coat and had come to stand in front of her. He began to help her with the buttons, slipping his hands inside her coat and around her waist. His gaze was intense - Kate knew that look. His eyes were dark with need.

She stroked his hair, "Why don't we get ready for bed...mmm?" Her finger trailed around the edge of his ear making him shiver and his shoulder lifted reflexively, then she continued down his jaw to his full, firm lips where she lightly traced the outline.

"Mmm…" he hummed and Kate felt a shiver of anticipation as he slipped her coat from her shoulders and threw it on a chair. His hands came up to brush her hair aside and he bent and kissed the side of her neck. She sighed deeply as his lips grazed her skin all along her throat and jaw and his teasing had the desired effect when she sought his mouth in a scorching kiss - their passion quickly escalated and their breath become fast and ragged. "I want you...so much..." his voice was breathless and deep.

Kate felt his desire against her body and she didn't want to wait. They almost ripped each other's clothes off, tugging and pulling and trying to help each other, and their kisses became frantic and urgent. At last Martin lifted her and tumbled her onto the bed and without any preamble she gripped his hips and pulled him down until they became one. He groaned as he sank into her and she began to move under him and his urges took over. He matched her urgent and fast pace and heard her little cries of pleasure and knew she was quickly reaching her peak. He intensified his movements until he felt the shuddering release overtake him and he sank his head into her neck and gasped her name like a drowning man. When at last he lifted his head his eyes were soft and filled with love as he stroked the hair from her forehead and placed soft kisses over her flushed cheeks. He kissed her mouth tenderly before he shifted to lie beside her. They lay entwined, sated and awash with languid contentment. He looked down at her perfect body - at the creamy softness of her thigh and the curve of her hip as she lay with her leg draped over his and felt her hand lightly stroking his chest. He sighed deeply.

"Well...that was nice Mr Ellingham," she murmured, "you and Paris make an explosive combination." She put her hand up to touch his cheek. "You're gorgeous...do you know that...mmm?"

He turned to lie on his side propping his head up on his hand and his other hand went to cup her breast. "And you are...sexy." His eyes were half closed.

Kate's mouth curved upwards in a slow smile. "I'm sexy am I?"

"Yes...very, _very_ sexy…"

Kate laughed. "You're using my words Martin Ellingham. I didn't think you were paying that much attention all those months ago."

"I remember everything about the first time we made love." His face was serious.

Kate felt his heart beating under her hand. "Me too. I wanted so much to tell you that I loved you...but I was afraid I would frighten you away."

His hand stroked her thigh and pulled her leg over his hip. "I had been in love with you for so long before that night."

Her hand smoothed the still damp hair from his forehead. Her faced took on a thoughtful expression. "You know...I never thought I would ever find someone I could love like I love you."

Martin couldn't hide his surprise. "Nonsense...there must have been hundreds of men for you to choose from."

"It's not about the availability of suitors Martin...it's about finding the one that makes your heart leap every time you see him. It's about knowing you have found someone who makes you feel like you belong. I just knew that if we had to part my life would never be the same...there would always be something missing."

Martin's heart began to race. He looked at her lying in his arms, "Kate…?"

He was silent for so long that Kate leaned back to look at him. "Yes Martin?"

"I umm…" he swallowed hard. Kate watched him as he seemed to struggle for words. "Umm...I was wondering...umm…that is...I want to…" He pulled her close and laid his cheek against hers. "I want to tell you...umm...that I feel the same...about you."

Kate leaned over and kissed his lips then curled up against him again. They lay like that until Martin heard Kate's breathing fall into a gentle rhythm and knew she'd fallen asleep. The room was softly illuminated by the light from the Eiffel Tower across the Seine and he could just make out her profile as she lay in the crook of his arm with her head on his chest. He sighed deeply. His courage had failed him. He knew he had missed an opportunity to ask her to marry him. Idiot. _Idiot!_

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The next day they spent walking the wintry streets. There were always musicians playing wherever they went and they frequently stopped to listen when something caught their attention. Kate kept her hand tucked into Martin's, enjoying the comfort and warmth it gave her. They had lunch at a cosy coffee shop near the Bois du Boulogne and Kate couldn't resist going into a little clothing boutique where she saw a beautifully tailored military-style jacket in the window. "Oh Martin look...it's a design made famous by Twiggy. I have to try that on. Isn't it to die for?"

To die for? And who in God's name was Twiggy? Martin's bewildered expression went right by Kate as she dragged him into the boutique and headed straight for the rack with the jackets. When she emerged from the fitting room Martin was looking decidedly uncomfortable as he stood staring out the window with his hands clasped behind his back but he turned as she approached.

"What do you think?" Kate twirled around. The deep burgundy red jacket with its wide black contrasting cuffs and mandarin collar went perfectly with her black jeans and black ankle boots and she was now glad that she'd remembered to bring them even though it had made them late. Martin thought the jacket made her look beautiful - the severity of the cut just made her look all the more feminine with her hair cascading over her shoulders. "It's umm...yes...it's satisfactory…"

"Satisfactory!" Kate stood with her hands on her hips. "Is that all?"

"Noo...I mean it's…" He came closer and murmured softly, "It makes you look beautiful...I mean more beautiful…" He gave a little cough as he looked self-consciously towards the shop assistant.

"Mmm…" Kate frowned at him and began unbuttoning the jacket as she walked towards the fitting room. "Well...seeing that it passes muster with you...I think I will buy it."

When Kate went to pay Martin drew her aside, "I'd like to buy it for you."

Kate shook her head. "No Martin...you have already done so much for my birthday...thank you but no."

The boutique assistant looked from one to the other and Martin glowered at her and turned slightly so she couldn't see his face. He bent his head towards Kate and murmured, "It's not for your birthday...I'd just like to…"

Kate put her hand up and stroked his cheek. "No Martin...but thank you for the thought my darling man."

The assistant looked at the impeccably dressed man and gave him a sympathetic smile. The look of utter adoration on his face was quite plain to see.

Martin was quiet as they walked away from the boutique and Kate picked up on his withdrawn mood. When they reached a little bench in a park nearby they sat and she turned to him and pulled his head down to hers and kissed his lips. "Don't be upset Martin. I can't let you buy things for me all the time."

"But I haven't bought you…"

"Yes you have...you've bought the train tickets...the luxury accommodation, the meals…"

"But I want to make…" he stopped and his face looked so crestfallen. "I want to make this weekend special."

Kate's heart melted. "You already have." She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh. "Just being here with you makes it special, my darling."

Martin put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close and she felt him kiss the top of her head. They sat like that for a while admiring the stark beauty of the park in all its wintry glory and watched people sauntering by and they just enjoyed the feeling of being together.

Eventually Martin looked at his watch. "Umm...we'd best get back to the hotel and get ready for the dinner cruise."

They walked to one of the main boulevards then hailed a taxi. "What is the dress code for the cruise?" Kate asked as the taxi pulled away.

"Smart casual...whatever that means."

Kate smiled. Martin would always be impeccably dressed no matter what the dress code. "It means no jeans, t-shirts or flip-flops...that sort of thing."

Martin looked appalled. "Good God...flip-flops! At dinner?"

When they got back to the hotel Kate said he should shower first while she sorted out what she was going to wear because it might take a while. Martin frowned, "A while? Kate we have to leave by seven fifteen," and he reminded her of her tardiness when they'd left for St Pancras.

" _Yes_ Martin…" she narrowed her eyes and her chin went up. "I will be ready, don't worry."

"Mmm…yes," he grunted and went into the bathroom.

When he stepped out ten minutes later with a towel draped around his waist, she slipped her arms around him and pulled him close. "I like this dress code much better than smart casual." Her hands slid down his bare back and over his bum. "Reminds me of a certain grumpy but very sexy surgeon on the first day I met him." She couldn't resist and tugged the towel loose and grinned at his predictable reaction. " _Kate_! Stop that...we don't have time for…you know..." He grabbed the towel before it fell to the floor and held it in front of him.

"For what? Mmm…?" as she looked him up and down with deliberate exaggeration.

"Just...go...and shower." he spluttered. Kate had mercy on him and blew him a kiss before she shut the bathroom door.

When she emerged a short while later, Martin was sitting in one of the easy chairs in the sitting room part of the suite, reading a medical journal. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a light blue shirt and deep red tie - distinguished as always.

Kate had chosen a navy blue, knee length jersey dress, belted in the middle with black suede knee high boots. She opted to wear her hair loose and she wore her black trench coat for warmth.

She was ready to leave on time and made a point of mentioning this to Martin as they left the room. He just grunted. All the way in the taxi he seemed distracted and Kate rubbed his thigh and looked questioningly at him but he just gave a little smile and looked out the window.

The cruise boat was tied up at a quay almost directly under the brightly lit Eiffel Tower. There were crowds of people taking selfies or posing for each other with the famous landmark towering above them. When they embarked, they were shown to a table for two next to a window of the glass canopied boat. It was positioned in such a way that it was slightly separate to the rows of other tables but still too close to other diners for Martin's taste. He scowled a bit but quickly changed his expression as he helped Kate to take off her coat before pulling her chair out for her.

She looked around and was struck by the elegance of the floating restaurant and the view from the front of the boat. "This is lovely Martin. What a fabulous idea."

"Mmm…I am glad you like it."

The waiter took their drinks order: sparkling water with a slice of lemon for him and a glass of champagne for her and left them with menus. Not surprisingly Martin went for seafood starters and fish mains and Kate chose a seafood starter and medallion of lamb for her main dish. They placed their order when the waiter came back with their drinks. When he'd left Kate lifted her glass and the golden sparkling liquid seemed to dance in the soft light. "To a wonderful evening with a wonderful man." Martin swallowed hard as he looked sideways to see if anyone had heard what she'd said. No-one seemed to be taking any notice and he dipped his chin. "Yesss…" Kate smiled. It would take a very long time before Martin would be able to be spontaneous in public and she didn't mind his reticence. His eyes told her everything she wanted to know.

Martin watched Kate as she looked out of the windows at the illuminated embankment slipping slowly by. She had her chin resting on her hand and her profile was enhanced by the shadows that sculpted her face. He looked at her mouth with her soft full lips and at her curved jawline and his eyes travelled down to her creamy neck. Her hair fell over her shoulders and captured the soft light in burnished highlights. She was so beautiful...so very beautiful and his heart swelled with love for her.

She suddenly pointed, "Oh Martin look…" and he turned to see the twin towers of Notre Dame Cathedral as it came into view. She took another sip of her champagne and put her hand out to him and he slid his across the table cloth. She grasped his fingers and rubbed them gently. "This is so romantic Martin...I am very impressed that you went to all this trouble."

"It's no trouble...I wanted to…" he looked agitated for a moment.

"Wanted to what? Spoil me?" She smiled at him, "Well you've succeeded...I feel very spoiled and special."

"Mmm…" he grunted and pulled his hand away as the waiter brought their first course.

As usual he didn't speak much as they ate - Kate kept an eye on the view and commented from time to time on landmarks as they appeared. Martin kept his eyes on Kate. The food was delicious but Martin's appetite was deserting him as his thoughts turned to what had been uppermost in his mind since they'd left Kensington, namely when and how he was going to ask Kate to marry him. He looked at the beautiful woman sitting across from him. He wasn't oblivious to the male attention she received - she turned heads wherever she went and whilst it made him feel special that she wanted to be with him, it also sometimes had the reverse effect. She might want to be with him for now but why on earth would she want to spend the rest of her life shackled to a dour and socially inadequate man whose only redeeming feature was that he loved her more than his own life.

"Martin?"

He realised that Kate had been speaking to him. "Uhh...sorry…"

She looked closely at him. "Are you alright? You haven't eaten much."

"I'm fine...thank you. The food is a little rich...very filling."

When the boat docked again and they eventually stood on the quayside, Martin said he'd call for a taxi but Kate put her hand on his arm. "It's such a fine night. Would you mind walking for part of the way?"

So they began to walk along the embankment amongst many other like-minded pedestrians with the Eiffel Tower standing like a beacon behind them. In the distance the twin towers of Notre Dame rose into the night sky like a brilliant jewel that seemed to draw them closer. Their steps slowed as they reached a place opposite the ancient building and they stood for a moment. Kate held Martin's hand and her eyes shone with excitement at the beauty of the view. "It's so beautiful, isn't it Martin…"

"Yes…very beautiful." he said but he was looking at her.

Kate looked up at him. His eyes were soft as they gazed into hers. "You're very quiet Martin. Is everything OK?"

"Umm...yesss…fine..." Martin swallowed hard. His stomach was in knots and his tongue felt clumsy and thick in his mouth. He took a deep breath. There was never going to be a right time to ask her to marry him and there was never going to be a right way of asking. His heart began to race as he stood behind her and put his arms around her waist. He felt her relax against him. He didn't care that there were people walking by. No-one took any notice of them and he felt as if the soft light separated them from everyone else - that they were in their own little space.

"Kate…?"

"Mmmm…?"

She tilted her head so that her neck was exposed to his roaming lips.

"Do you…umm…remember when I first told you... that I loved you?"

"Of course I do…it was one of the happiest moments of my life."

He turned her slowly in his arms so that he was looking down at her. "Do you remember saying…umm…that if I'd have you...you wanted to spend the rest of your life…with me?"

"Mmm…yes I do."

He put his hand up and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "Do you still feel that way?"

Kate nodded as she looked up at him and her heart almost stopped beating in her breast. Her eyes were big and almost pleaded for him to continue. He bent his head and kissed her lips tenderly then looked into her eyes with that deep and searching gaze.

" _Will_ you spend the rest of your life with me Kate?" he whispered, "will you marry me?" He looked so anxious – his eyes were wide and vulnerable and his breath caught as his throat constricted.

Kate felt as though her heart would exploded with joy and she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh Martin… _yes_ …a million times _yes_! I want to spend the rest of my life with you, my darling man." Tears glistened in her eyes and when she looked into his she could see his eyes were moist too. He drew her to him, lifting her off her feet and rocking her as he buried his face in her neck. "Oh Kate…"

Someone nearby came up and offered to take a photo and Martin scowled at the woman. She shrugged and smiled, "It is very special this occasion, is it not?" She looked at Martin's forbidding face. "Your beautiful companion has said Yes to you and you should capture the special moment…"

Kate thanked the young woman and handed her phone to her as she took Martin's arm and pulled it around her waist, then she looked up at him with all the love and excitement reflected in her face. Martin felt as if his heart could burst in his chest. She'd said yes...oh sweet God she'd said _yes_. He felt tears stinging his eyes and he turned away from the woman and the camera. Kate thanked her and popped the phone back in her pocket.

She turned into Martin's arms again and threaded her fingers through his hair then lifted his chin so that she could look at him. "I love you so much Martin…you've made me the happiest woman alive." She drew his head down and their lips met in the most tender of kisses. All their love was centred in that moment and joy seemed to flow between them.

Eventually Martin stepped back from her. He reached into the pocket of his coat and took out a little box and opened the lid. He turned it so that she could see the ring nestling in the black satin. It was a diamond ring set in a simple but elegant design. Kate put her hand up to her mouth, "Oh Martin…" she could hardly breathe as he took it out and held out his hand for hers. He took her fingers gently in his and slipped the ring onto her finger. It fitted perfectly. "Oh Martin…it's beautiful." She was so overcome that she felt the tears spill over and he drew her to his chest and rocked her gently. "I love you Kate…with all my heart."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Much, much later, Kate woke to find the bed beside her empty. She sat up and looked towards the bathroom but the door was ajar and the light was off. She turned to look across the sitting room and saw Martin's silhouette against the big windows. She slipped out of bed and went to him, sliding her arm around his waist. "Can't you sleep?"

"Mmm…" His arm went around her shoulders and she stepped around in front of him and laced her fingers behind his back. She looked up and saw the wetness on his cheeks. "Martin?" She lifted a hand and gently smoothed it over his face. "What's wrong my darling?"

"It's nothing…"

"It's a lot more than nothing…" she reached up and put her lips to his. "Can you tell me?"

He swallowed and closed his eyes. "You said yes…"

"Yes I did...I thought you'd be happy…"

He gathered her fiercely to his body. "I _am_ happy...more than you know." She felt his shoulders heave as he took a deep breath and she held him tightly as she placed little kisses on his cheeks. His voice was soft and shook a little, "I just can't believe how lucky I am...that you said yes."

Kate leaned back and her face looked serious in the light reflecting through the windows. She framed his face with her hands. "Martin...luck has _nothing_ to do with it - nothing at all." She stroked his face gently. "I _want_ to be with you...forever...it is a conscious choice...it's not some random quirk of fate...and I couldn't be happier that you chose me…"

Martin lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "I love you Kate...I couldn't love you more if I tried." He kissed her lips gently. "I know I am a difficult man...and hard to be with...but I will try to make you happy. Please help me...to do the right things…"

Kate lay against his chest and felt his cheek against her hair. In that moment she felt that something in the universe clicked into place and her heart sang with joy. She clung to him, "I love you my darling man, more than you'll ever know."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	44. Chapter 44

"Do I really have to right now?" Martin grumbled when Kate brought up the subject of him phoning his aunt. They were lying in bed with the curtains pulled back so they could see the grey skies looming over the Eiffel Tower.

Kate leaned onto her elbow and tucked her hair behind her ear then poked him in the chest with her finger. Her eyes narrowed, "Yes Martin, you really have to. You are like a son to Aunty Joan...and she's been more of a mother to you than…" she frowned and said softly, "Nevermind - just give her a call and tell her our good news...mmm? She'll be so pleased."

"Mmm…" He scowled and Kate leaned over to kiss his mouth then looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "Mar-tin?"

"Yes." he said pulling his chin in.

Kate ran her hand down his chest to his belly. "Will you?"

" _Yes_ …yesss" His sucked in his breath as Kate's hand travelled lower.

"Now?

"Mmm...yes…now." His voice was breathless.

"Tell her I will SMS her a nice photo of us under the Eiffel tower."

Martin grunted as his eyes became dreamy. He reached out for her but she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I'm going to shower which should give you plenty of time to call Aunty Joan - then you can tell me all about it when I come back."

Martin looked like a disappointed little boy as he watched her walk toward the chair where her dressing gown lay. Her naked body set his heart pounding and he gave a big sigh as she blew him a kiss before disappearing into the bathroom.

Martin thought better of ignoring Kate's 'request' to call his aunt. It was like having teeth pulled without anaesthetic but he called and Aunty Joan was completely overcome with emotion and he became more and more uncomfortable as the call went on. He could hear she was in tears. At the best of times he didn't know how to deal with that kind of thing. With Kate he could hold her in his arms and he didn't have to say anything but over the phone with his aunt his tongue got tied in knots and he just said, "Yes...well...if I'd known you would be so upset I wouldn't have called."

"Martin! I am not upset - I'm happy for you!"

"Oh…yes...right." For the first time in his life he could actually relate to that having experienced the same emotions the night before, so he grunted something along the lines of, "umm...yes...an understandable emotional response…"

She sniffed and asked if they had set a date yet. He said no but he and Kate would discuss it and let her know. And they'd be coming down to Portwenn over Christmas and he would come to see her.

"I'm looking forward to that Marty - and don't think you can get away with visiting me over a cup of coffee. I want to spend some time with you and Kate."

When Kate emerged from the bathroom Martin had just finished talking to his aunt. He held up the phone so she could see, "Umm...she's pleased. She cried...damned awkward." His chin was lowered.

She came to where he stood in the little sitting area and took hold of the lapels of his dressing gown and pulled him closer. "Thank you for doing that Martin - it means the world to her." She reached up and pecked his lips. "You'd better go and shower," and patted his bum as he turned to walk away.

When Martin closed the bathroom door she took the opportunity to phone her mother and tell her the news. Evelyn was ecstatic. "Oh Kate I am so happy for you both. Martin must be over the moon...he looked so nervous about the whole thing…"

"Nervous? How do you know Mum?"

"Oh...didn't he tell you? He told me about his intention to propose when I was leaving for the station last week...he looked like a shy little boy. Such a sweet man with beautiful old fashioned manners."

Kate was completely taken aback. It must have taken so much courage for him to bring up the subject with her mother. And as for old fashioned manners, her mother had clearly never witnessed one of Martin's finer moments when sounding off at "idiots and morons" but Kate knew what she meant - she too had witnessed Martin's old fashioned manners on many occasions. Her heart just melted for him.

"He is a man of surprises Mum - I never thought he would ever do that. And how he asked me to marry him...was so...it was so romantic...on the Seine embankment with Notre Dame all lit up across the river. I'll send you a photograph someone took of us just after Martin proposed...and one of the ring of course. He told me he took a ring from my jewelry box to give to the jeweler for sizing and the engagement ring fitted perfectly - I wondered how he'd done it."

"Have you set a date yet?"

"No - we didn't get that far. I am not even sure what his thoughts are on the type of ceremony or anything like that."

"Well I'm sure you'll work it out soon enough."

When Martin came out of the bathroom Kate was scrolling through her photos and had found the ones taken by the young girl. She had captured the two of them perfectly. In the photo Kate was looking up at Martin with joy radiating from her face. Her hand was on his chest and her head was tilted back. He was looking down at her with such adoration as his arms encircled her. In the background Notre Dame's ancient, illuminated towers rose into the night sky - solid and permanent, its reflection dancing in the waters of the Seine. The next photo showed a scowling Martin looking straight at the camera, his brows almost meeting across his nose. Oh dear - he'd been so upset at the intrusion but looking at the photos she was grateful for it because they now had a wonderful memento of the occasion.

She held out her left hand and looked at the ring. It was beautiful. Martin had said that she should change anything she wanted if she didn't like the setting or the stone. But she liked it. He'd known somehow that she would prefer simplicity over a fussy design. It was elegant and suited her taste perfectly. She held her phone over it and took a photo to send to her mother and Aunty Joan.

She got up and walked to where Martin stood clad only his boxers in front of the open wardrobe. She ran a hand over his bottom and he turned and took her in his arms. "We'd better get a move on or we'll miss breakfast," he murmured but his hands pushed aside her silky dressing gown and slid over her hips pulling her close against his body.

Kate slid her arms around his neck and pulled his head down. "Mmm...how hungry are you?"

His eyes were dark as he began to walk her slowly backwards towards the bed. "Very...very hungry."

It was some time before Kate got in the shower again and closed her eyes as the warm water streamed over her body. She still felt the glow of their love-making and she smiled. Martin never failed to surprise her. He was so spontaneous when they were alone and as a lover he made her feel like she was the centre of his universe. She sighed contentedly. It had been a perfect weekend - one that had turned out even better than she could ever have anticipated. He'd asked her to spend the rest of her life with him and she couldn't be happier.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

It had just gone 6.30 am as Martin opened the doors to the surgical ward and strode towards the nurses' station where the ward sister waited to accompany him on his rounds. He nodded at her, "Good morning Sister." and swept by in his usual brisk fashion. Sister Jackson's jaw dropped as she scrambled to catch up with him. That was the first time since meeting him a year ago that he'd greeted her like that. She'd never had more than a nod and a curt "Yes" out of him. What was going on? She looked suspiciously at him as he strode past the waiting registrars into the first ward. Nothing appeared different about him. He still had a look on his face that discouraged any smalltalk but when she watched him closely he seemed more relaxed...yes...a little less tense.

As the rounds progressed, even the registrars began to notice that something was different and there were whispered comments between the braver of them. "He must have got a bit of nooky last night. It's been ten minutes and the bloke hasn't insulted anyone yet."

"Yeah...I find it hard though to imagine anyone rolling in the hay with him."

"Well Lara Perkins did and she was hot...and by all accounts Kate Rushton too and she's smoking hot..."

"Mmm..still can't get my head around him..."

"Chisholm...would you care to share your observations with the group?" Ellingham looked at him with eyebrows raised. Chisholm swallowed and his colleague choked on his laughter and whispered, "Yeah Chisholm, share your observations about him getting some nooky…"

Needless to say Chisholm failed miserably in his efforts but Ellingham still didn't rip him apart. Instead he sighed deeply and looked at another of the junior doctors with his eyebrow raised.

It was 7.30 before Martin eventually entered his rooms and he headed straight for the galley kitchen. His thoughts turned to Kate as he prepared the espresso machine and placed his cup under the nozzle. It was her first day back at work and she would already be down in the theatre wing. He smiled a little at the thought of seeing her there in a little over an hour.

He sat at his desk pulling his patients' notes towards him as he sipped his coffee. There were two procedures today, one of them quite straightforward but the other was a nine year old boy who required reconstructive surgery following a motor vehicle accident over the weekend. The child had not had a seat-belt on and had extensive facial injuries besides damage to his lower limbs and left arm. Martin's face looked grim as he looked at the scans on his computer. Why do parents not take responsibility for their children? The boy's injuries would have been less severe had he been wearing a seat-belt. Besides the vascular trauma, the boy's face needed to be reconstructed and he would bear the scars for the rest of his life. Martin scowled then looked up as he heard the outer door of his rooms open and a moment later Kate stuck her head around the door. She was already in scrubs and her hair was tied up in a chignon, exposing her beautiful neck. A little smile creased his eyes. "Kate…", he said softly. He stood up and came to stand in front of her and she stepped closer until her body was touching his.

"You left this morning before I could do this…" and she slipped her arms around his neck and her mouth sought his in a tender kiss. Martin's arms went around her and he responded in a way that made Kate's legs go weak. Eventually she leaned back, "Mmm that was nice...good morning my gorgeous fiancé." Martin responded by nuzzling her neck and pulling her closer against his body as his mouth found hers again.

They both heard the outer door open and Martin's head shot up and his eyes went round. "It's Mrs Blake…"

"Yes…" she pecked his mouth again and stepped back. "See you in a while…" and turned and walked into the reception area.

Martin heard Mrs Blake greet Kate and he felt his cheeks redden. Damn it...now she would be curious. He picked up his cup and headed for the galley kitchen and was just putting it in the sink when Mrs Blake appeared. "Morning Mr Ellingham. How was your weekend? Was Paris as cold as it was here?"

Martin dipped his chin and cleared his throat softly, "Umm...yes...satisfactory thank you." He tugged at his ear. "And cold...yes it was umm...cold."

Mrs Blake smiled inwardly at his shyness. She'd been curious as to what he'd been doing in Paris. She'd booked the suite at the Shangri-La for him and when she'd seen photographs of the place on the internet she'd blinked at the cost and knew he meant it to be a special weekend. Now seeing Kate leaving his consulting room with flushed cheeks and a smile on her face, Mrs Blake began to put two and two together. If what she suspected was true and there were wedding bells in the air, she couldn't be happier but she would have to wait for him to tell her. No good speculating.

Down in theatre, Kate's return to work was greeted by lots of chatter and she was hard pressed to keep her wits about her as she prepared for the first procedure. Martin would be appearing at any moment and even though he was now her fiancé, she was still the theatre sister and things had to be perfect.

A little while later she heard his voice in the corridor outside and her heart skipped a beat. It always did. Then he was striding through the automatic doors in his commanding way - he nodded at her and went to check the monitors and had a word with the anaesthetist. "I am ready to begin," he said and slipped his surgical mask up over his nose and mouth. Kate's eyes met his. They were piercing blue-gray and the mask just enhanced it. Her heart gave a little leap. Those eyes had captured her heart the first time she'd met him and they still sent shivers through her whenever he looked at her that way.

The day flew by. Both procedures went smoothly and Kate finished up her reports and headed for the nurses' lounge where she bumped into Jen on the way in. She looked around but the place was empty so she took the opportunity of telling Jen the news.

"Umm...Jen, just so you know...Martin asked me to marry him." Jen gave a little shriek and grabbed Kate in a bear hug. "Oh my God Kate...I am so happy for you. Did he do the whole thing...like going down on one knee and everything?" Jen's excitement made her babble and Kate laughed.

"No Jen...no bended knee...but it was so romantic. We had a wonderful dinner cruise down the Seine and afterwards he proposed on the embankment opposite Notre Dame…"

Jen's face looked wistful...it was every girl's dream to be proposed to in Paris. "And what about the ring?"

"It's beautiful...I've locked it away while I'm in theatre but I'll show you soon." She looked at Jen's smiling face. "Maybe keep this to yourself a little longer please Jen. Everyone is bound to make a fuss and Martin doesn't handle that too well."

"That's an understatement...but you know what the bush telegraph is like Kate. Someone just has to spot the ring and it won't be long before they've worked out who gave it to you. Have you set a date yet?"

"Not yet...we're getting there."

They parted and Kate went to change before heading home. Martin had said not to wait for him as he had consultations until quite late. She thought about what Jen had said. All three of the people they had told so far had asked the same question - have you set a date yet? She would bring up the subject with Martin as soon as it was appropriate. Now that she knew for certain that they were getting married, the thought of planning the wedding was exciting but also daunting. She knew Martin would find everything hard to handle and she didn't want him to stress but she also wanted a traditional wedding, in a church with their nearest and dearest to share the occasion with them. She had no idea how Martin felt about a church ceremony. All she knew was that the attention on them leading up to the wedding and then the day itself was bound to agitate him so they needed to talk...and the sooner the better.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	45. Chapter 45

As it happened it wasn't Kate who first brought up the subject of the date for the wedding. They were sitting listening to music that evening when Martin said, "Umm...have you given some thought to when you want the wedding to be?"

Kate sat back and looked at him. "Well...I thought we would decide together." She stroked the hair behind his neck. "Have you given it some thought?"

Martin's face looked set as he turned to her and said firmly, "Yes...I'd like it to be soon."

Kate looked a little taken aback and she said cautiously, "OK...what exactly do you mean by soon?"

He looked uncomfortable. He realised he was treading on dangerous ground. "Well soon...now...not in a month or two months."

"Right," she said slowly. "Umm...there are things that need to be planned though Martin. The way you're talking it sounds like you want to get married next week."

Martin shifted uneasily and looked sideways at her. "Yes I do...is that completely out of the question?"

Kate opened her mouth then closed it again. She knew better than to ask if he was joking and she'd detected a note of petulance in his voice. "I think next week is a little too soon, don't you?" she said softly.

"No...I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise."

"I see…" Kate turned and sat cross-legged on the sofa facing him. "It sounds a bit like you just want to get it over with...in a registry office somewhere."

"Noooo...no...that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? Is something worrying you?"

He frowned. "No…" He sat looking straight ahead.

"Martin?"

He scowled and looked at her. "I just don't want to wait...I want us to be married soon."

Kate smiled at him and took his hand in hers. "So do I my darling but next week's a little too quick for me." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Umm...and that's because I really would like to have a traditional wedding…if you..."

Martin looked alarmed and Kate squeezed his hand. "Don't worry - nothing too ostentatious. It's just that I have always dreamed of a church wedding...how do you feel about that?"

Martin looked at her with that deep and searching gaze then he shrugged. "It doesn't matter," but then went on quickly when he saw the disappointment on Kate's face. "Umm...what I mean is...I have no preferences...whatever you decide is fine by me. I just don't want to wait six months that's all." He scowled, "Or have hundreds of people there."

Kate opened her eyes wide and gave him her most innocent look. "Oh don't worry about that...it will only be a small gathering...about two hundred guests...just close family and…"

"Two hundred! Good God Kate...that's not a small gathering. Who in God's name will you be inviting?"

"Well it's small for Westminster Abbey Martin…" Kate sounded like she was explaining it to a child.

Martin's eyes had grown round and he looked as if he was about to bolt any second. " _Westminster Abbey!_ ," he spluttered. "Umm...Kate perhaps we should talk about this before…"

He looked at her anxiously and saw she was struggling to keep a straight face. "You're joking…"

"You fell right into that one my darling man." She wagged a finger at him. "Never mess with a woman who's planning her dream wedding day…"

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek as he sat rigid with displeasure. "That's not funny…" He sounded sulky.

"I know...I'm sorry."

"No you're not," he muttered.

She grinned at him then shifted to straddle his legs and took his face between her hands. "I couldn't resist...but I promise, I really don't want anything big but I would like a church wedding if that's alright with you?"

"Yes...fine." He looked anxious. "How long is that going to take to plan?"

Kate looked thoughtful. "Mmm...I'd say at least two months…"

His face fell even further. "Two months?"

"Well yes...we have to book a church and I have to get a dress and send out invitations; then there's the flowers and the reception. We also have to give the guests a little time otherwise they won't be available to attend."

Martin's brow was deeply furrowed and she leaned forward and kissed his lips gently. "Have you any thoughts on where we should have the wedding?"

He gave her an apprehensive look. "Uhh...I would rather leave that to you."

"How does Cornwall sound? There's this lovely little church in Altarnun that our family has attended over the years. It's near to Portwenn and Mum is friends with the Vicar and his wife. Or we could have it in London if you prefer?"

"Cornwall is fine...Cornwall is good."

"Ok...I will make enquiries for available dates but the earliest will be in two months. All right?"

"Mmm…" He still did not look happy.

She stroked his hair and smoothed the crease between his eyebrows with her thumb. "Your first job is to make a list of people you'd like to invite…"

"A list? I don't need a list...just Aunty Joan...and Simon."

"Ok...and what about Arthur and Rachel Braithwaite?

"Mmm...yes...I suppose so. Umm...and maybe Chris Parsons. You haven't met him yet. He was at medical school with me...kept me from becoming a total recluse and I helped him study. We keep in touch."

Kate smiled. She could just imagine Martin helping someone study - he would have been an exacting taskmaster.

Later that night as Kate lay in Martin's arms she could tell that he wasn't asleep yet. "Martin?"

"Mmm…?"

"Why do you want to get married so urgently? What's the rush?"

He was silent a long while then gave a deep sigh and turned onto his side so that he was looking at her in the dimness of the room. He put his hand up and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "Because then we'd be husband and wife...and I want that more than anything...to be able to call you my wife and for me to be...your husband." He traced his finger over her lips. "If we could get married tomorrow I would."

She stroked his cheek gently. "We will be husband and wife soon, my darling. And two months will fly by, you'll see. There's such a lot to do between now and then...and you'll have to help organise some things too...so..."

"Like what?"

"Well...the wedding rings for a start...and the honeymoon…"

"Honeymoon?"

"Yes Martin...there's usually a honeymoon after a wedding."

There was a little silence in which Kate could faintly hear rain pattering on the windows. She cuddled closer to Martin and felt his hand slide down her side to her thigh.

"Umm...I'd like to have my Grandfather's ring as a wedding band."

Kate looked up at him. "That's a lovely idea Martin. I'm sure he would be very pleased with that." She smiled. Martin was more sentimental than he would ever admit and she loved him for it.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The next morning Kate was only due at the hospital at 10 am as she was working a little later than usual so she sat in the kitchen with Martin as he prepared his espresso at 6 am.

"It's your birthday tomorrow."

"Mmm…"

"The big four oh."

He looked puzzled.

"Forty...It's a milestone birthday. Such a sexy age for a man."

He looked even more puzzled and she smiled.

"I've booked tickets for the Beethoven concert at the Royal Albert."

His eyes sparked with interest.

"And an early dinner at Gordon Ramsay's restaurant. You'll have to suspend your views on healthy eating for one night I'm afraid but I guarantee it will be nutritious...and delicious."

Martin finished his espresso and rinsed his cup then walked to where she sat at the table. He put his hand under her chin and gently tilted her face up. "I am very much looking forward to it." He bent and put his lips to hers and she stood slowly and wound her arms around his neck. She felt so soft and the subtle scent of her filled his senses. A tenderness welled up in him as it always did when she was in his arms and he kissed her gently. "I have to go," he said huskily.

"Mmm...see you later?"

"Yes…" he pecked her lips, "I love you Kate."

"Love you too gorgeous."

Then he was gone.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The next morning Kate woke before Martin and slipped out of bed. She had put his presents in the spare room and she tiptoed silently to get them. When she slipped back into bed Martin murmured her name and pulled her close. She planted little kisses on his face and neck to wake him up properly. Eventually he opened his eyes and she stroked his face gently.

"Happy birthday my darling man."

He grunted and pulled her down until his mouth found hers in a slow and sensual kiss. Kate felt her senses quicken but she sat up before things escalated. She heard him sigh.

"I have a present for you."

"You are my present," he grumbled.

"That's so sweet Martin but I have something else for you." Kate leaned over and switched on the bedside light and the room was bathed in its soft glow. She picked up her gift and held it out to him.

Martin sat up and took the little package from her. He looked so sexy in his light blue t-shirt with his hair slightly tousled and a faint stubble on his chin. He tore off the wrapping and opened the small box. In it was a pair of white gold cuff-links inlaid with a beautifully cut, square tanzanite stone. She'd looked at all his cuff-links to get a sense of what style he liked most and she'd had them made on the same lines. Tanzanite went well with the dominant blues and greys in his wardrobe.

Martin looked up and his eyes were soft. "Thank you...they're...very good."

Kate smiled. 'Very good' was high praise indeed. She leaned over and kissed him gently and he reached for her.

"Uh uh mister...I have one more present for you." She handed him a bigger package.

Martin pulled off the wrapping. It was a dark leather-bound book and when he opened it to the title page he saw "Henry Christopher Ellingham - Published Papers" He hesitated then thumbed through the first few pages. Kate had sourced all of his grandfather's medical publications and had had them bound. The first papers dated back to the 1950s.

He was quiet for so long that Kate put out her hand and stroked his cheek and when he looked at her she saw that his eyes were moist. "Thank you…" he murmured.

Kate took the book from him and put it on the bedside pedestal then pulled him close and kissed him gently. "I didn't mean to upset you...I thought you would like his published papers in one volume."

"I do like it...and I am not upset."

"Are those happy tears mmm? I don't mind happy tears."

"Yes…" He pulled her close and they lay entwined for a while just enjoying the comfort they got from each other.

Kate felt Martin's hand slide from her waist up to cup her breast and she leaned into him. "Mmm birthday boy...I think you are going to be late for rounds this morning."

"Don't care." He murmured into her neck, pulling her gently to lie on top of him and his hands cupped her face. "I've never had a birthday like this - where I've been made to feel so special."

"You deserve it." And she proceeded to show him just how special he was.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	46. Chapter 46

The Royal Albert Hall had been packed for the Beethoven concert. The 'Pastoral' 6th Symphony was very popular and had brought the house down. It was one of Martin's favourites and Kate had jumped at the chance to buy the tickets for his birthday when she'd seen it advertised. She'd glanced at Martin frequently during the performance and just adored the rapt look on his face. It was as if he forgot his surroundings and immersed himself totally in the music. She put out her hand and covered his as it lay on the armrest and he wrapped his fingers around hers then pulled her hand to rest against his body. When the music ended the spell was broken as people began to applaud. He looked a little dazed and she squeezed his hand until he looked at her and gave a little smile. It made her happy that he'd got so much enjoyment from the evening. The meal they'd had before the concert had also been superb and Martin hadn't once made any comments about fat or salt or empty calories - not even about the half glass of red wine she'd ordered, much to her relief. He'd just enjoyed his seafood dish for what it was - delicious.

They eventually stood and made their way into the aisle and joined groups of people chattering about the concert as they headed for the exits. Kate tucked her hand through Martin's arm and he looked down at her but didn't pull away as he might have done a few months before. Instead he seemed to walk a little taller.

As they reached the foyer a voice called out over the general hubbub, "Kate? Kate Rushton!"

Kate turned and her eyes widened in surprise. "Paul! My goodness, fancy seeing you here." She hesitated, then said, "How are you?"

Paul walked over to where they stood. He put out a hand and touched Kate's arm in a familiar greeting but she almost imperceptibly leaned closer to Martin and he quickly withdrew his hand.

"I'm great thanks Kate...just great." His boyish face creased into a hesitant smile and his eyes searched her face. "And how are you? It's been a while." Paul's dark good looks were still very much in evidence. He'd hardly aged at all she thought except for a few lines around his eyes and mouth. He still dressed like a student, only one could tell that the clothes were now expensive designer brands. His only nod to the more formal surroundings was that he was wearing a jacket. His jaw sported a faint stubble, a style that seemed to be so popular these days. He was with a pretty blonde woman who clung onto his hand and eyed Kate suspiciously but his focus was completely riveted on Kate.

Martin stared at him with eyes like chips of grey ice and a deep frown creased his brow.

"I'm fine thank you Paul...very happy." Kate turned, "Umm...Martin this is Paul Somerville...we were at school together...and then university. Paul this is my fiancé Martin Ellingham." She looked enquiringly at the blonde woman but Paul missed his cue to introduce her. Instead he held out his hand to Martin who shook it briefly.

"Pleased to meet you Martin." He was looking at Kate again but his words were directed at Martin. "Fiancé? You're a lucky man. Congratulations." Paul's tone was anything but congratulatory; it was more...disappointed. His eyes lingered on her face. Kate gave a tight smile and Martin's lip curled slightly.

Paul at last turned to his companion. "This is Simone Foxcroft - Kate Rushton...err...an old friend." He continued staring at Kate and Martin immediately picked up that there was more to their relationship than being old school friends. His brow creased even more as he stared icily at Paul.

An awkward silence prevailed. Paul looked at Kate. "Do you...do both of you want to join us for a drink somewhere? Catch up on old times?"

Kate shook her head, "I don't think so Paul, thank you. Martin has surgery early tomorrow morning and it's already almost eleven now."

"Ahh...you're a doctor?" He had to look up because Martin was at least a head taller than him.

"Surgeon," Martin's tone was curt.

"So a doctor with a knife then." He ignored Martin's look of contempt. "I'm an architect myself. I don't save lives but I try to make them more interesting and comfortable." He grinned and Martin's lip curled even more. Arse.

Kate looked from one to the other. The tension between the two men was almost tangible and she tucked her hand further through Martin's arm, "We'd best be going darling or we won't get a taxi."

He grunted and turned to walk away.

Paul called after them. "Bye Kate...nice to see you again. Perhaps we can meet for that drink some time."

Kate gave a thin smile and she and Martin joined the crowd of people heading into the icy night air outside the concert venue.

They didn't talk on the way home. Kate got the feeling that Martin was brooding. He'd taken an instant dislike to Paul, as if he sensed that there was a bit of history between the two of them. Surely he couldn't be jealous - it wouldn't make sense. All the way back to Kensington she held Martin's hand but he just stared out the window and said nothing.

Back home they got ready for bed and Kate slipped in beside Martin where he lay on his back with his hands folded on top of the covers. He did this when he was thinking and didn't want to cuddle, which wasn't very often.

Kate switched off the light and turned to him. She ran her hand under the covers and under his t-shirt so she could stroke his chest.

"I hope you enjoyed your birthday my darling."

"Mmm...yes...thank you."

He still didn't touch her.

Kate sat up and leaned on her elbow. "Is something the matter?"

He didn't look at her. "What is your relationship with Paul?"

Kate sighed inwardly. She'd guessed he'd been brooding about this. "I have no relationship with Paul...umm...not anymore that is. We dated when we were in high school and all the way through university...but that was a long time ago now."

"I see…"

Kate tried to see his expression in the dim light but his face was cast in shadows. "Martin?" She ran a hand down his chest to his belly. "If you were wondering...Paul and I…"

Martin turned away from her and lay on his side. "I don't want to talk about it now...I'm tired."

Kate lay back and her heart felt like it was shrivelling in her chest. She couldn't handle him withdrawing from her like this. If only she knew what he was thinking...what he was feeling, then at least they could talk about it.

She spooned behind him and wound her arm around his waist as he lay rigid and unmoving beside her. She whispered against his shoulder, "Please don't withdraw from me." Her hand slid up under his t-shirt and stroked his chest gently. There was no response and Kate's frustration began to bubble.

"Martin...your silence isn't helpful. I need to know why you're upset."

"I'm not upset...I'm tired."

Martin never turned away from her like this when he was tired. If anything he would want to draw her close and fall asleep with his arms around her.

Kate lay quietly beside him with her arm around his waist. She could feel the tension in his body and knew that he wasn't asleep. The silence grew and eventually she sat up unable to get control of her emotions. Martin's withdrawn behaviour after meeting Paul came as a surprise given everything they'd experienced together over the last week. They had taken the step of getting engaged and were discussing wedding plans and then Paul Somerville appears and Martin is thrown into a world of doubt and mistrust. Kate felt hurt and frustrated. She got up and walked over to the chair beside the bed and picked up her dressing gown. She had to think. Lying next to Martin was making her agitated. His habit of withdrawing so completely when he was upset was something they would have to resolve if they were to have a fully trusting relationship going forward.

Kate went downstairs and made herself a mug of hot chocolate. Right now that was the only thing that would keep her from throwing something at the wall. She went to sit on the sofa in the darkened sitting room and curled her legs up underneath her. The mug felt warm between her hands as she sipped at the steaming liquid.

She couldn't take it when there was a distance between herself and Martin. If only he would get angry and articulate his feelings. Having a row just seemed so much more appealing than the silence that protected Martin's locked up feelings. She realised he'd spent a lifetime perfecting how to do just that, but surely when something came between them he would want to bring it into the open. Why would he want to think the worst without talking about it?

A slight noise on the stairs made her look up. For a such a big man Martin moved so quietly. He came down slowly and stood in front of her. His dark blue pyjama pants and light blue t-shirt made him look adorable but she didn't want to think about that right now. She was upset with him.

He came to her and took the half empty mug from her hands and set it down on the coffee table then drew her to her feet. "Come back to bed Kate. It's cold."

Kate flicked her hair back and looked up at him. "I can't Martin...not when you give me the silent treatment like that. I can't bear it. I'd rather sleep here on the sofa or in the spare room."

Martin sighed. He tilted his head back as if he were trying to find words. "Umm...I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"That's no excuse Martin." Her voice was soft and her expression sad.

He looked at her with misery in his eyes. "I can't explain it…it's like I need to be alone...inside...to think...to try and understand..."

"Tell me what's worrying you. It's obviously got something to do with Paul but unless you tell me what your concerns are..." She dipped her head to try and catch his eye but he kept his head bent. "If you are jealous of Paul you don't have to be…"

He shrugged and his eyes were deeply shadowed in the dim light. Kate tried to read his expression but failed. She saw all the old emotions coming and going on his face. She thought those demons had been put to rest but here they were again, gripping Martin by the throat and shaking his new found feelings of trust and love. How was she to deal with this? How was _he_ going to deal with it?

She sighed and looked at him as he stood in front of her with his arms at his sides. "Martin...I don't know what to say or do when you won't communicate with me. I can only assume it has something to do with Paul." She waited but he still didn't speak. "I thought we'd spoken about this already. Remember? When I told you that nothing would change the way I feel about you? It just seems to me that you don't trust me…you don't believe that I am speaking the truth when I tell you there can never be anyone else for me...you don't truly believe it."

"That's not true…"

"Well what am I to think mmm? You meet Paul and you make a few assumptions then you give me the cold shoulder. That's pretty clear cut to me Martin."

He looked down and his hands came together in a gesture that showed his agitation as he began twisting his grandfather's ring round and round on his finger. "I saw the way he looked at you. I could tell...that there was something between you. That you'd been lovers…" He sighed heavily. "Were you?"

Kate frowned, "What's that got to do with anything?"

His head came up slowly. "How can you ask that? Of _course_ it has something to do with it...you and... _him_ …" His lip curled, "And the way he stared at you and _pawed_ you...it was as if he still…"

"Martin - Paul and I broke up almost ten years ago and it wasn't a very amicable parting. I haven't seen him since then - he's been on the continent or wherever, pursuing his career."

Martin hung his head. "You and he...made love…"

"Yes...but that's over…"

"Not for him it isn't...the way he looked at you…"

"And you think that because he looked at me that way, I will run back and jump into bed with him...mmm?" Kate's eyes began to spark. "Your jealousy is one thing Martin, but this complete overreaction is quite something else. It shows me that you are insecure in our relationship and that's a _big_ concern for me."

He looked sullen. "I'm not the only one who's shown jealousy. You were just as jealous of Lara…"

Kate's chin went up and her eyes narrowed. "There is _no_ comparison whatsoever between Lara and Paul - not one little bit!"

"Is that so? I seem to remember you storming out of my rooms when you saw Lara there. You gave me the cold shoulder too."

Kate was shocked. "Martin...when I saw you and Lara together she was _kissing_ you with her arms around your neck and her body pressed up against yours. You had been lovers not even a year before that. What was I to think? Paul met us by chance at the Royal Albert, for goodness sake - and I haven't set eyes on him, or communicated with him in any way for the best part of ten years - how can you compare the two situations?"

Martin ran a hand over his face but didn't speak.

Kate sighed deeply. "When I saw you with Lara it stirred up horrible, destructive emotions in me. I couldn't bear the thought of you making love to her or anyone else, I just couldn't - but eventually I came to realise that it doesn't matter who you've made love to in the past...because you chose me - you want me now - and not any of them. And that makes me feel secure. I would like to think that you feel the same way."

Kate felt so many emotions that she didn't know which of them was going to burst through as she battled to control them. Frustration, anger, hurt, heartbreaking sadness and overwhelming love all fought for dominance. It was clear that Martin's fear of rejection and of being found wanting was never far from the surface. This was an issue that had come up time after time and no matter how much she reassured him he still couldn't overcome his deep-seated feelings of not being good enough, of not being deserving. Something had to be done and clearly she wasn't going to be the one to do it.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to think that he didn't really believe she loved him, that all her words of reassurance and commitment were for nothing - that their love wasn't strong enough to weather situations like this.

She took a step closer and put her hand up to stroke his face. "Martin I have told you over and over that I love you, that I _want_ to be with you - and I really do. I have told you that nothing you could do or say could make me stop loving you and I stand by that. But I can't compete against something that's so deep inside of you that I can't get to it. I can't seem to get through to you that I love you and nothing is going to change that. _Nothing_! And then, when something like this happens, you push me away instead of coming to me and telling me how you feel. You immediately withdraw as if you've made up your mind that our relationship isn't worth fighting for." She put her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "I don't know how to deal with that Martin."

Martin's arms went around her and he held her tight. "You are worth fighting for Kate. It's just...he's young and good looking and you once found him attractive enough to…" He hung his head. "The feelings of inadequacy just come flooding back...I can't stop them. I don't consciously think it...but it's suddenly there again." His voice sounded miserable. "I don't know what you see in me, Kate...I just don't."

Kate looked up at him. "I see so many things Martin...good things...things that I love and admire. But it's not what I see or don't see in you that's at the root of the problem - it's more about what you don't see in yourself, what you don't believe about yourself and no amount of reassurance from me seems to help."

She leaned back and stroked his cheek gently. "I will do anything to make you realise how much I love you Martin, but the destruction your parents wreaked on you is so powerful and so much part of you that I don't know what to do. I think you need to get professional help."

Martin pulled back and his expression was dismissive. "I don't need professional help. I can deal with this on my own."

"Well clearly it's not working, is it? We wouldn't be having this conversation right now if you were able to cope on your own."

"I'm a surgeon for God's sake. Are you suggesting that I am not in control...that I don't have all my wits about me?"

"No Martin. You are supremely in control - of your surroundings, of your work, physically, mentally...but emotionally you are not in control. You're a little...lost...don't you think?"

Martin sighed deeply.

"Will you at least give it a try? Find someone to speak to? A psychologist or therapist - someone close but not at the hospital."

His face looked vulnerable in the dim light.

"Please Martin…"

"Mmm…"

Kate took that as a positive grunt and she put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down so she could peck him on the lips.

"And another thing...I just want you to know that my being upset with you doesn't mean I don't love you. It does not mean that I will leave you. I will never leave you - is that understood?" She reached up and stroked his cheek.

He nodded. Kate stepped back and took his hand and led him to the stairs. When they got to the bedroom she turned into his arms again and ran her hands down his back and under the elastic of his pyjama pants where she could feel the tautness of his muscles. "I love you Martin. No-one else matters - no-one else has ever mattered this much to me."

She drew his head down and her lips found his and gently coaxed a response from him. It started tentatively, slowly, sensuously but all of a sudden Martin's desire seemed to ignite and he gathered her fiercely to his body. It was as if he didn't know where to kiss or touch her first. His sudden desperation took Kate by surprise as he backed her towards the bed and lay her down. His eyes were intense as he struggled with his clothing and then with hers. He kissed her with such heat as he hovered over her, caressing her all over, kissing her breasts...he slipped his hand under her hips and she felt the weight of him as he joined with her. There was none of the usual protracted foreplay, no waiting - it was if he had to be one with her, as if he had to possess her with an all consuming passion. She sensed his need to reassure himself that she was his, that she wanted him. All Kate could do was to let him lose himself in her and she held him as his storm broke and he clung to her gasping over and over, "I love you Kate...I love you...oh God…I love you so much."

When his movements ceased, he lay for a moment trying to catch his breath then he slowly rolled away and lay beside her with an arm over his eyes. Kate turned and stroked his damp chest. "Feel better now?"

He shook his head. "I'm so sorry...that was unforgivable." His voice was miserable and shaking.

"Mmm - a little unusual."

He gathered her into his arms and held her gently as if she were made of fragile glass. "I'm sorry Kate."

He began to shower her neck and face with tender kisses as his hand roamed over her hips and up her belly. He whispered words of love sometimes incoherently in his quest to make up for being so inconsiderate. She smoothed the damp hair off his forehead and pulled his head down until it was buried in her neck. "Shh...it's alright. Just hold me."

And he did and his mouth sought hers in the gentlest of kisses. Eventually he became calm and they lay entwined together and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning as Martin dressed, Kate lay watching him. He looked unhappy and when he'd finished knotting his tie she called him, "Come here handsome."

He walked over and sat on the bed next to her, his expression contrite. "I don't know what came over me Kate...I am truly sorry."

She looked at him for a long moment then put her hand up to touch his face. "I rather liked your...err...passionate intensity Martin...but not the reason behind it. Perhaps we can try it again when you are not motivated by feelings of jealousy or inadequacy...mmm?"

He looked at her with such adoration then bent to kiss her tenderly before he got up to put his jacket on.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks to everyone for your reviews, comments and PMs - they are all very much appreciated. Receiving feedback is such a motivator - it gives one a sense of whether it's worth carrying on or not.**


	47. Chapter 47

The grey afternoon light had all but faded, sending shadows deep into the corners of Simon Holden's office. He got up and switched on a lamp and it bathed the room in its soft glow, banishing the gloom and making the place look cosy. He eased himself into the comfortable wing back chair once more and looked at Martin as he sat opposite him concentrating on the chessboard that had been set up on the coffee table between them. Martin's attention was riveted on the pieces and his face looked tense.

Simon wondered what was eating him. He'd sensed that Martin needed to talk. His sudden request to meet that afternoon 'perhaps for a game' had made him wonder. He'd heard talk that his relationship with Kate was serious; that they were living together. He couldn't be happier for the man and yet here he was looking anything but the happy lover.

Martin moved a piece and then folded his hands together, his elbows resting on his knees.

Simon kept his eyes on the board. "How is Kate? After the accident."

"Mmm...she is well...fully recovered."

Simon glanced up at him. "More coffee?"

"I'll get it." Martin went to the sideboard on which the coffee pot stood and brought it back to the table. He topped up both cups. His brow was knitted into a frown and his demeanour was far from relaxed. "Umm...Kate and I are getting married."

Simon's face broke into a broad smile. "That is wonderful news indeed Martin." He stood up and extended his hand. "Congratulations." Martin's hand was enveloped in a firm grip.

"Yes…" Martin dipped his chin and cleared his throat softly. He took the coffee pot back to the sideboard then went to stand at the window that overlooked a courtyard two storeys below. Lights reflected on the wet cobbles and people hurried, seeking shelter from the pelting rain under the old stone arches.

"Simon, I was wondering...umm...there is something Kate has asked me to do. I need to...umm…" Martin struggled to continue and muttered, "...this is damned awkward…"

Simon waited. Martin stood ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back, his fingers clenching and unclenching. He spoke without turning. "I have an...issue...that needs to be addressed. Something that affects my relationship with Kate."

Once again Simon waited for Martin to continue.

He took a deep breath. "I had a somewhat difficult childhood...uh...which it seems has left me with a diminished sense of self worth. Sometimes this causes friction between Kate and myself." He spoke as if he was discussing a patient. "Kate wants me to seek therapy. I am not sure I see a need for it but maybe..." His voice petered out.

Simon sat with his elbows on the armrests of his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "If I may ask...how does the impaired sense of self worth manifest itself?"

Martin turned but kept his head down. "Umm...usually it's a feeling of not being good enough...for her." His hands came together and he twisted the ring on his finger round and round. His voice was hardly above a whisper, "I don't know what Kate sees in me...why she would want to be with a man like me."

Simon was taken aback. He had known Martin for the best part of eight years and would never have said that he thought of himself in that way. He was a supremely gifted surgeon, he was confident and completely in charge of his surroundings and yet here he was saying that he felt he wasn't good enough for Kate.

He paused and moved a piece on the chess board. "Does Kate ever give you the impression that this is so? Does she make you feel that you are not good enough?"

"God no...she has been nothing but...loving…reassuring..." Martin paused and a faint blush crept up from under his collar and he pulled at his ear. "Umm...she tells me that she's happy just to be with me." He shot his cuffs and flicked at an imaginary piece of lint on his sleeve - a way of buying time. "For a while things will be alright and then something will trigger it…"

"Did something happen recently?"

"Mmm...last night. We were at the Royal Albert for the Beethoven concert and afterwards we bumped into an old flame of Kate's." Martin's face took on a brooding, dark frown. "I guessed that there had once been something between them and immediately felt...inadequate. Why would she want to be with me when she could have someone like him? He's younger, good looking, extrovert…" He grimaced and shook his head. "Schoolboy emotions, I know." He turned back to the window and stood looking down.

Simon waited and Martin went on, "Kate was upset by my reaction."

"Did you have a row about it?"

Martin shook his head. "No...but that's because I don't talk when I feel that way. And that's what upsets Kate more than anything else: my withdrawal from her."

"Ahh...I see." Simon got up and came to stand next to Martin at the big bay window, both of them staring down at the wintry scene below. "And what goes on in your mind when you withdraw?"

"I feel diminished...humiliated...as if I'm under some kind of scrutiny. That it is only a matter of time before Kate is going to see me for what I actually am - and she will want to leave..."

Simon pondered that for a moment. "And you find it difficult to articulate these feelings to her?"

"Yes...sometimes I don't understand them myself. And no matter how much Kate tries to reassure me, the insecurity never quite goes away."

Simon walked back and sat down again and Martin followed. "I can see why it's important that you find someone to guide you through this difficult issue Martin - and it _is_ difficult. I think it would be beneficial for you to consult a therapist. To try and get to the source of these feelings and to get some professional advice on how to deal with them."

He looked towards his desk where a photo of his late wife stood on one side. "My wife spent her whole working life helping people with emotional issues that stemmed from childhood - either from physical or emotional abuse or both. So I am aware of the benefits of therapy." He picked up his cup and drained the last of the coffee. "I can recommend someone if you like."

Martin looked at him then nodded. "Yes...thank you." Then he looked down and moved one of the pieces on the board. "Check mate," he said softly.

Simon frowned and leaned forward. "Mmm...good move. Must be my lapse in concentration." A smile softened his face. "Care for another game?"

Martin's mouth twitched. "By all means," and began rearranging the pieces.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate was brushing her hair in the nurses' locker room when Jen came in.

"Kate! How are things?"

"Oh hi Jen - they're good thanks."

She heard Jen gasp, "Oh my God...let me see." She grabbed Kate's hand and looked at the ring. "It's beautiful...have you set a date yet?"

"Umm...we're discussing it. It will be in about two months...down in Cornwall."

"So quite soon then?"

"Yes." Kate was about to tell her about Martin's eagerness to marry but stopped herself. No-one else need know that. "Will you come Jen? Will you be my bridesmaid?"

Jen squealed and scooped Kate up in a bear hug and danced her around, "Of course I will! I am so honoured. You must give me the date as soon as you've decided then we can start on the invitations and choose your dress and the flowers and we can plan the theme for the reception and...have you thought of what colour you want the bridesmaids' dresses to be?" Jen babbled excitedly.

Kate laughed. "Bridesmaid Jen not bridesmaids! It's not going to be a big wedding but it will be a church wedding."

They both turned as someone walked out of the bathroom behind the lockers. It was Linda. Neither of them had known she was there. "Did I hear there are wedding bells in the air?" She glanced at Kate. "Congratulations." She looked pointedly at the ring on her finger. "Nice rock you got there. Must have set the Chief back a tidy bit. Good job you chose it though or you might have got something more suited to a prize in a lucky packet."

Kate looked at her with distaste and Jen raised her eyebrows. "What the hell are you on about Linda?"

"Oh...just that we all know that his nibs wouldn't know the finer details of buying jewelry - not being the romantic type and all."

Kate's eyes flashed. "For your information Martin surprised me with the ring - he had it made for me."

Linda looked surprised. "Wouldn't have thought he had it in him...well well!"

Kate was fuming. She hated the fact that Linda and probably most of the staff saw Martin as an insensitive and cold person. She wished they could all see what a wonderful man he really was.

Jen put out her hand and brushed her arm. When Kate looked at her she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head as if to say 'it's not worth it Kate' and Kate closed her mouth.

They left the locker room and walked through to the nurses' lounge and Kate stopped. "She's going to cause trouble again and Martin is so sensitive to this kind of thing...it makes him abrupt and defensive...well more abrupt and defensive than usual."

Jen smiled. She remembered how he'd looked the day he'd come down to Emergency and seen Kate lying on the gurney after her accident. He'd been abrupt then but it was because he was scared. The look of fear and utter love on his face would stay with her forever. One day she hoped someone would love her that much. "Don't worry about that...or that vindictive little gossiper," she cocked her head towards the locker room. "But you can bet that the minute she leaves this room it will be all over the hospital. That's if she hasn't already started texting the news to her entire address book!"

When Kate got home she took some soup she'd cooked the day before out the fridge and began to warm it. She set the table and put some music on. Martin had said he would be a bit late and she hoped it wouldn't be too late or he wouldn't want to eat.

It wasn't long before she heard his key in the door and turned to watch as he walked across the kitchen towards her. Her heart gave its little leap of love. He was so gorgeous. "Hello handsome."

He drew her into his arms and bent to kiss her gently. "Hello." He kissed her neck. "You smell nice," he murmured.

"Mmm...so do you..." she leaned back, "and I would love to keep exploring how nice you smell," she kissed his lips lightly, "but we'd better have supper or it will get too late if we carry on like this...mmm?" She pecked his lips again then turned back to the cooker to stir the soup.

"How was your time with Simon?"

"It was good...we each won a game. So we will play again next week."

Kate loved that he had Simon - as a friend and a father figure all in one.

Martin watched as Kate ladled soup into bowls. "He asked after you."

She paused then turned to look at him where he leaned against the counter with his hands behind his back.

"He's a lovely man Martin. Genuine to his core…just like you."

Martin dipped his chin and looked at Kate from under his brows. He would never get used to her saying things like that; things he could never believe about himself.

They ate and Kate mentioned her encounter with Linda. "Just giving you advance warning - she will have spread the news about our engagement at the hospital so just be prepared."

He scowled. Bloody busybodies the lot of them!

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	48. Chapter 48

"I really appreciate you making enquiries for me Mum. I will discuss those dates with Martin and let Reverend Gray know which one we've decided on within a day or so."

"Yes it was fortunate he had the first two weekends free in February. It's more towards summer that he is fully booked up."

"Mmm...Martin didn't want to wait until summer. He wanted to marry almost as soon as I said yes." She laughed, "I think he is nervous about the whole thing but I really do want a traditional wedding and it takes time to plan."

They chatted for a while about possible venues for the reception and accommodation for guests who would be staying over. "But we can chat more about things when I am with you over Christmas Mum. Is it alright if we come down two days before and leave the day after Boxing Day?"

"Yes of course darling. I look forward to it."

Kate disconnected the call on her mobile and looked out of the bay window at the grey skies. Martin would be home any minute and she could at last give him the two dates that were available in February. Once they'd agreed on a date she could meet with Jen to start planning the finer details. It was going to be a busy time but she felt the excitement begin to build. She just hoped that Martin wouldn't feel pressurised because he would only withdraw again. She resolved to make him part of the preparations but not to overwhelm him with too much detail. The poor man would want to run a mile.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin pressed the buzzer on the intercom labeled 'Dr F Myburgh'. The door buzzed open and he entered the immaculate hallway. The practice was located quite close to where he lived in Kensington and from the outside looked like any of the other neat terraced townhouses so popular in the area.

He walked into a small, tastefully furnished waiting room and approached the reception desk. "Ellingham. I have an appointment at 4." His voice was curt.

The receptionist was a young woman with braided red hair, dressed in what could only be described as an uncoordinated Bohemian style, with at least ten different necklaces hanging around her neck and a similar amount of bracelets jangling at her wrists. Martin gave her his most piercing stare. Did these youngsters not look at themselves in a mirror before venturing out in public? She gave him a wide, friendly smile and checked her computer screen.

"Martin Ellingham. This is your first time with us, yeah? So you will have to complete this form."

Martin glowered at her from under his brows as she handed him a clipboard with a ballpoint pen attached to it by a string. He took it gingerly and went to sit on one of the chairs across the room. He ignored the ballpoint pen and took his own fountain pen from his inside pocket and began to fill in the form which asked seemingly endless questions about his personal life. Did Mrs Blake give similar forms to his new patients? He must remember to ask. Once it was done, he got up and handed the clipboard back to Bohemian Girl who smiled at him again and asked him to take a seat. "The Doc will be with you shortly."

The Doc? Good God...it sounded like some vet in rural Yorkshire. He was questioning Simon's judgement in recommending this psychologist when he heard a door opening and voices in the passage. He tried to sink into his chair and picked up a magazine and held it up in front of his face. It was an odd feeling for him to be sitting waiting as a patient and not being the one in charge. Very odd.

A man and a woman entered the reception area and he heard the woman say, "Just give Kylie the details and she will make another appointment for you when you're back from your holiday." Then she went to the end of the counter and picked up a file and turned to Martin and smiled.

"Please come through."

Martin was a little taken aback that the 'Doc' was a woman. When Simon had given him the contact details Martin was sure it had said: 'Dr Francis Myburgh' on the piece of paper so he'd expected a man. Simon must have spelt her first name incorrectly.

The woman led the way down the short passage into her consulting room. She stood aside for him to enter then closed the door behind him and extended her hand. "Francis Myburgh." Martin shook it briefly while staring at her in his piercing way. She held his gaze with a friendly, curious smile on her face. "And you are Martin Ellingham."

"Yes.."

She gestured for him to take a seat in the chair opposite her. It was a comfortably furnished room with an antique desk and three easy chairs in a sitting area to one side. The room seemed filled with light from the big bay window so typical of the townhouses in Kensington but also because the décor was light and uncluttered.

He stared at the petite doctor. For some reason it irked him that he had assumed he would be speaking to a man. Not because being a woman made her any less of an expert or made the slightest difference to how he would interact with her on a professional level. It was more about the image he'd built up in his mind - it threw his tidy mental preparations out of kilter. The scowl on his face told a story of its own.

"You must be wondering why I am not a man."

Martin's eyes widened. How did she know?

"I blame my dear father for the mix-up. In his excitement when he went to register my birth he spelt my first name the masculine way and it kind of stuck. It's been a talking point my whole life." She gestured for him to sit.

Talking point, thought Martin. He would have found it extremely annoying if it were him. He sat down with his knees together and his hands folded on his lap.

Dr Myburgh sat down opposite him and put a notebook and pen down on a little table next to her. She was in her fifties, if he had to guess, so she would have been a contemporary of Simon's wife Beth. She was well groomed but wore little make-up and her blonde hair was styled short, enhancing her elfin like features. Her blue eyes had a direct but curiously soft appearance. She wore no jewelry other than a watch and a necklace through which was threaded what looked like a wedding ring.

"So Martin...it would make things much easier if we used first names in our sessions...are you alright with that?"

"Yes…"

"I see you are a surgeon - what is your speciality if I may ask?"

"Vascular specialist. St Mary's."

"Ahh...so you would know Simon Holden then?"

"Yes - it was he who recommended you."

"I worked with his wife Beth for years. The practice still feels empty without her." She smiled. "But that's not why we are here. How can I be of help to you Martin...what has brought you here?"

Martin shifted uncomfortably in his chair, then squared his shoulders. "I am to be married shortly. My fiancé Kate feels I have issues relating to a poor sense of self-worth which occasionally results in...umm...friction between us. Particularly when it causes me to withdraw from her. She would like me to seek guidance in dealing with it."

Francis smiled at him, "Firstly congratulations on your upcoming marriage."

Martin grunted.

"Can you tell me a little more about these issues you mention?" She picked up her notebook and sat back.

Martin's expression was almost deadpan, as if he was talking about a patient. "I was an unwanted child. My parents were mostly absent from my life. I was sent to boarding school when I was six. Before that a string of nannies came and went. They stayed a couple of months, sometimes longer, depending on how badly my mother treated them. I assume my lack of self-esteem stems from the remoteness of my parents and my lack of identifiable role models."

"I see. It seems like you have done a little homework." She wrote in her notepad.

"Yes."

"Do you have any siblings Martin?"

"No."

"When you say your parents were mostly absent...where were they? Working...travelling?"

He thought for a moment. "Umm...my father was a surgeon so I suppose he was always working. My mother was...busy. She entertained a lot and was out...a lot."

"What kind of interaction did you have with your parents when they were at home...with you."

"What do you mean...interaction?"

"I mean, the times that you were with your parents - did you talk, sit together, cuddle...that sort of thing."

Martin frowned and his lip curled. "We were hardly together long enough to…" He took a deep breath. "No we didn't sit together and talk and we didn't...cuddle." He looked embarrassed.

"So there was no physical affection between you and your parents?"

"No."

"What is your earliest childhood memory?" She threw the question at him. "The first one that springs to mind. Quickly. Don't think too long on it."

Martin looked down at his hands. "Umm...being stripped of my pyjamas...uhh...because I had wet the bed." He shifted in his chair and twisted the ring on his finger.

"Tell me more about what you remember of this incident."

Martin looked at her intently. His face held an expression of resignation and he sighed. "My mother was angry because it was the nanny's night off and she had to deal with the wet sheets and my whining...as she put it. She gave me a hiding and made me sleep on a chair in my room. It was cold." He said it in a matter of fact way.

Francis tried not to purse her lips as she wrote in her notebook. "Do you know how old you were?"

"I must have been about four. I had fallen asleep with a book in my bed and it upset my mother because it was wet and ruined. Before that I couldn't read so it must have been around that age."

"You could read at age four?"

"Yes."

"Did your parents often punish you?"

"If I deserved it...yes."

"Explain what you mean by 'if you deserved it'. What type of behaviour do you think was deserving of punishment?"

"Well...the usual things," he said it irritably as if she should know. "Wetting the bed, making a noise, asking too many questions, bad manners...that sort of thing."

"Did you wet the bed often?"

Martin felt the redness creeping up his neck. "Uhh...yes."

"And how long did the bedwetting continue - can you remember when it stopped?"

"I was eleven or twelve."

"And you were at boarding school all throughout this time?"

"Yes."

Francis shifted, crossing one leg over the other and she rested the notebook on her lap. "You started our conversation by saying that you were an unwanted child. What made you think that?"

Martin looked at her with that direct and open gaze. "Because my mother told me so...about six or seven years ago. But I always knew it anyway...that I was in the way."

"Can you tell me what your mother said to you?"

Martin frowned. "What does it matter what she said? I was unwanted - that's all there is to it."

"I would like to get some context on how your mother saw you and her relationship with you."

Martin tilted his head back and closed his eyes before looking directly at her again. He spoke as if he were speaking about someone else. "Before I was conceived, my mother said she was happy. My father paid her attention...as a woman. Afterwards, he lost interest and he...strayed. She said that because of me she lost my father's affection - that she had wasted her most important years being labeled a mother. That I was nothing but a burden...to both of them. She said that boarding school was a blessing because it got me out of her sight." He raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'Is that enough?'

Francis gazed at him as he sat immobile, his hands clasped in front of him. "How did you feel about what your mother said?"

He frowned and his expression once again looked impatient and irritated. "What do you think I felt? It came as a shock. Even though I already knew it...it still came as a shock to hear my mother actually say it...out loud...like that." He looked down at his hands.

Francis made some more notes. "Thank you Martin." Her voice was gentle. "Now you also mentioned punishment earlier. What form did the punishment take - how did your parents mete it out?"

Martin shrugged. "The usual...my father would give me a few slaps with his belt or a table tennis bat - whatever was handy. My mother would slap me on the head or back with her hand but she preferred locking me in the cupboard under the stairs."

"I see…"

"Look I don't see where this is leading." Martin's tone was curt and impatient. "Children who don't listen to their parents get punished - that's how it works - or at least in my day it did."

"Martin I want you to think for a moment of what it would be like to observe a young child being locked in a cupboard under the stairs. As an adult now, what would you think...what would you feel about that young boy under the stairs?"

Martin frowned. "That's a hypothetical question and could be answered in any number of ways. What's the use of that?"

"You are quite correct, but I am only interested in _your_ subjective answer to my question. What would the adult Martin think and feel about Martin the child being locked in a cupboard or being beaten by his father with a belt?"

Martin looked at Francis for a long time. She could see the emotions chasing each other across his face. He looked pale now. "I would feel it to be unjust...I would want to help him."

"Would you think he was deserving of being punished...say for wetting his bed?"

Martin frowned and shook his head impatiently. "No...because he couldn't help it. It happened while he was asleep. If he was awake he wouldn't have wet the bed, would he?"

"Mmm...and if a small child asks too many questions, do you think that it would deserve punishment?"

Martin looked a little perplexed. Francis could tell that he was trying to equate what he felt now with what he believed about himself back then and they didn't add up. Eventually he said, "No I wouldn't."

"Now ask yourself why you felt you deserved punishment for it then."

His eyes were wide and searching. Francis held his gaze and waited for him to answer.

"They didn't like me. I suppose I just irritated them."

"Is that a valid reason for punishment?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't think their behaviour was abnormal. I displeased them and I was punished."

Francis remained silent for a moment, wanting the realisation to sink in for Martin - that a young child didn't deserve that kind of punishment - that he didn't deserve that kind of treatment from his parents. It was, just as he had said, unjust.

"Tell me about your childhood friends."

"I didn't have any friends."

"Do you mean that you found it difficult to make friends?"

"No...I mean I didn't have friends. My parents didn't want other children at the house...said they were noisy and dirty. And I was not allowed to go anywhere other than with the nanny...to buy clothes or groceries."

"Do you have any cousins?"

"No."

"Was there anyone else besides your parents and nannies that you interacted with regularly in your childhood?"

"My Aunty Joan...and her husband Phil. Joan is my father's younger sister."

"Did they visit often?"

"No - they never visited."

"So how did you interact with them?"

"I used to spend summers at their farm in Cornwall after I started boarding school."

"And how did you get on with them?"

"Fine. Summers were relaxed and...fun...for a while." He said fun as if it was an alien word.

"Why for a while? What happened?"

Martin got up and walked to the window. He stared out onto a little garden now drenched with rain. "When I was eleven, my father suddenly put a stop to my going down to stay with the Nortons. He said I had become a nuisance to my aunt and uncle. From then on I spent summers at boarding school."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Confused. How do you think it made me feel?" He snapped and stared out the window. Then after a pause he said softly, "I thought they liked me."

"Do you still see your aunt and uncle?"

He turned and walked back to sit in his chair. "My uncle Phil died a number of years ago. I keep in touch with my aunt. She still lives on the farm in Portwenn." He hung his head. "But I haven't seen her much since finishing medical school."

"Did your aunt and uncle show you any affection?"

"They were kind to me."

"I mean physical affection."

Martin shifted uncomfortably. "My aunt would hug me...a lot. But it was more about being included in everything that was happening - farm chores, cooking, conversation, reading, going for walks...that sort of thing. It was if they trusted me not to...botch things. And if I did...there was no punishment." He gave a slight shrug. "Like I said - it was relaxed."

Francis made some notes. "Did you ever ask your aunt why you couldn't stay with them anymore?"

Martin looked indignant. "No...they had told my father that I was a bother...that's all there is to it. It can't have been easy to have a child running around for months at a time - especially since they didn't have children of their own."

"Thank you Martin." She closed her notebook. "I think we should stop there now. But I have some homework for you."

Martin looked alarmed. "Homework?"

"Yes...I want you to make a list. I want you to write down incidents you can remember from your childhood - good or bad. Incidents that stand out. Just write down key phrases - don't try and elaborate for now. It will be things that you remember that made you happy or sad, scared or angry...anything that springs to mind."

Martin grunted and looked away.

"And I want you to think about the punishment meted out to Martin the young child and ask yourself if you would find a young child deserving of such treatment if you were the adult who had to administer the punishment." She smiled gently at him then stood up. "I will see you at the same time next week if that suits your schedule."

"Yes." Martin stood up. He towered over Francis and she tilted her head back to look up at this imposing, distinguished looking man in front of her. His grey eyes were carefully guarded but she had seen flashes of hurt and confusion in them as they'd talked. The emotions were so fleeting that another person might not have even picked them up. He looked as if he was in command of his life but inside he was a broken little boy with scars all over his soul. She liked him and she hoped that he would allow her in so that she could guide him towards healing. She knew that it wouldn't be easy to get him to open up, but the journey had only just begun.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Author's comments:**

 **Firstly my thanks as usual to everyone for their reviews and comments – they are always appreciated.**

 **I would like to take this opportunity to respond to a few recent reviews. I realise that this is not the ideal place to do it but unfortunately FF does not give authors the means to respond to Guest reviews. Why this is so is beyond me. Some reviewers prefer the anonymity of Guest status to say what they really think and I understand that – but sometimes the points that are raised need some clarification. As far as I can tell this is the only way to respond so please bear with me or jump to the next chapter.**

 **One Guest reviewer (I shall call him/her "NotASparksFan" to differentiate him/her from other Guest reviewers) made some interesting comments about plot lines and incorporating more of the human condition into the story, which have merit and of which I take cognisance. I would agree that I tend to want the romantic, soft side to dominate and I can only put this down to us DM fans being deprived of this aspect in the DM series. I do however, try and stir it up with a bit of drama and turmoil every now and then. As for Kate being too nice...Kate is not Louisa. She understands the vulnerable and insecure Martin. She is coaxing him from the shadows in the only way she knows how to...with unconditional love. She is grounded and confident in who she is and she loves Martin so much that her patience always prevails. Her frustration with him sabotaging himself with self-doubt does come into play though. Will he ever overcome it? Let's see.**

 **A couple of points made by NotASparksFan have me a little concerned that some of my scenes have come across in an ambiguous manner. I quote:** " _ **A person who is passive aggressive by nature (as DM amply demonstrates) is not known to be a consulate [sic] lover…"**_ **I don't see ME as being passive aggressive at all – not in my story or in the DM series. His silence and withdrawal are defence mechanisms and not a weapon used to manipulate or intimidate others.**

 **And the second part of the comment:** " _ **As the saying goes, he'll have sex with you but he won't make love to you..."**_ **(I am assuming that NotASparksFan is referring to the scene where ME makes love to Kate after their 'argument' in Ch 46), I have to say categorically that that association/motivation couldn't be further from my intention. ME was not just having sex with Kate impersonally like he did with Lara Perkins – his behaviour was driven by his insecurity and his desperate need for reassurance – he was not using her or being passive aggressive. Kate did not see it that way either. She recognised the desperation that fear engendered in ME and she comforted him.**

 **Lastly, in response to RumpyBumpy (also a Guest reviewer) - You say you were** " _ **shocked and pleased to see Fanfic allowing some constructive criticism to be printed in the reviews of this story."**_ **It wasn't FF that allowed it. I, as the author, have the option to moderate Guest reviews. I have, however, never felt the need to withhold any reviews and, unless they become abusive, I will continue to approve them all. Criticism might sting but there is a place for it if it is constructive and clearly explained.**

 **Just as an aside, I never said anywhere that ME had a "six pack" but my description of him not having 'an ounce of fat' on him and having a flat belly might have resulted in some readers imagining a more sculpted look than I intended. :)**

 **Please keep the reviews coming - it is a great motivation for writers.**

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	49. Chapter 49

It was cold but at least the rain had stopped when Martin left Francis Myburgh's rooms. He decided to walk home even though it was dark and he could feel the cold biting through the winter fabric of his suit. He hadn't expected to be exposed to the elements and had not brought his overcoat, an oversight he now regretted. But he stood by his decision to walk, it would give him time to regroup after the session - time to clear his head.

The conversation he'd just had with Francis made him uncomfortable and his mind seemed to jump between the present and the past. Incidents he'd thought he'd forgotten suddenly appeared in graphic detail and with the remembering came the feelings - dark, disturbing feelings. He quickened his pace, his purposeful stride ensuring that no one got in his way.

He thought of the bed-wetting incident. What he hadn't told Francis was that it was the first time he'd wet the bed and he hadn't told her what his mother had said to him. Her voice was as clear as if she was speaking to him now. "You filthy boy...look at what you've done. _Look_!" She'd roughly pulled his pyjamas off and slapped his bottom with her bare hand. It had stung and he could almost feel himself shivering again as the cold hit his naked little body. He'd been able to endure the physical cold but he couldn't endure the cold anger in his mother's eyes. He remembered how she'd slammed the drawers and wardrobe doors as she'd looked for clean pyjamas. Each loud bang had made him jump as his frightened eyes followed her angry movements. She'd thrown the pyjamas at him when at last she'd found them. "Put them on." And when, in his nervousness he'd fumbled and dropped them on the floor she'd snatched them up and roughly yanked him as she pulled the pants on and shoved his arms into the sleeves of his pyjama top, leaving it unbuttoned. His little fingers had struggled unsuccessfully to close it against the cold. His mother had approached the bed and her lip had curled in disgust as she'd ripped the sheets off and thrown them on the floor.

"Your mattress is wet and _disgusting_...get on the couch," she'd said pointing at the two-seater under the window. "And don't you dare wet that or you'll know all about it!" Then she'd left the room, switching off the light and slamming the door behind her. He'd stood there waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark then he'd dragged a blanket from the end of the bed and gone to the couch where he'd curled up waiting for morning to come, too scared to fall asleep in case he wet himself again. Fear had sat like a lump of rock in the pit of his stomach at the thought of coming face to face with his mother again. Of the entire incident, the thing that stuck with him the most was his mother's coldness and her look of disgust - not for what he'd done - rather it was disgust for who he was - the very sight of him disgusted her. It was the first inkling he had that he wasn't normal. He made people angry. Wetting the bed was a disgusting, filthy thing and had made his mother look at him as a disgusting, filthy boy. She should know. She was his mother.

And then there was the cupboard under the stairs. Until he went to boarding school he regularly spent time there and every time he was sent there and he heard the key turn in the lock, the feeling of dread would rise in him. Sometimes he would panic and throw himself against the door, rattling the handle in the hope that by some miracle the door would not be locked. There were no miracles. Sometimes he would be left there for hours and he'd be hungry and dazed when he was eventually let out. He'd be pulled into the light blinking and disorientated and he'd be shoved towards the stairs he'd been locked under and he'd hear his mother's expressionless voice, "I hope you have learnt a lesson Martin? Although somehow I doubt you are capable of learning anything. Go to your room."

One nanny had dared to challenge Margaret Ellingham when she'd locked Martin under the stairs. He'd heard her saying that it wasn't right and the boy should rather be sent to his room - that locking a little child up like that was wrong. The next day she wasn't there and Martin only realised that she wasn't coming back when another nanny appeared one morning. She had the same cold look as his mother.

Martin crossed the road at a pedestrian crossing and turned into the high street where the lights from shop windows reflected on the wet pavements. Did he learn anything by being locked in the cupboard? Did it work? He honestly could not answer that question. Francis had wanted him to think of what he would feel as an adult if he watched a child being locked in that cupboard now. He tried to picture it objectively. Would he let a child of his sit in a dark cupboard for hours at a time, frightened and unable to understand the reason for his incarceration? Martin stopped dead in the middle of the pavement eliciting a muttered 'tosser' from a man who'd almost walked into the back of him.

A child of his? Where had that come from? Martin couldn't imagine having a child of his own. In his universe the concept of parenthood had never even been a blip on his radar. Never. But he was getting married soon and this was a matter that had never really come up between himself and Kate. She had often spoken of friends who'd had babies and her eyes would sparkle as she looked at photos sent to her on her phone and she'd say, "Ohhh Martin isn't he just the cutest little poppet?" and her face would become soft. Kate had never brought up the subject in any depth but if he had to guess he would say that she would want children. She would make a lovely mother - soft and loving and tender. But what kind of a father would he make?

His heart began to pound. Having to talk about his childhood and being made to look at it from an adult perspective had focussed his thoughts on how vulnerable a child really is. They are at the mercy of every single person with whom they come into contact - good or bad. He'd experienced mainly the bad and his view of the world was forged in criticism and in the gradual acceptance that he was flawed and his very existence irritated others.

From his rudimentary knowledge of child psychology (by his standards), the chances of repeating the cycle of learned behaviour was possible...even probable. Did he want that? Did he want to be a judgmental parent, inflicting his insecurities on his offspring? It scared him. It scared him even more to know that he and Kate would have to eventually discuss this. Would she understand his point of view - that him being a parent was not a good idea? He was too dour and too reserved and incapable of showing affection unless it was toward Kate. She received all the affection he was capable of giving - there wasn't room for anyone else. What if his concerns about being a father meant that Kate wouldn't want to marry him after all? If she felt strongly enough about children she might call it off. The fear rose in him again. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to put the thoughts from his mind. Not now Ellingham. Not now. One thing at a time.

He began to walk again and stopped in at the little bakery near his home and bought some homemade brown bread. It was just after six when he got home. The place was in darkness and he switched on lamps as he went through to the kitchen. He missed it when Kate wasn't home when he got there. He loved how she came to greet him with her warm smile and gentle embrace. But she would be home soon so he began to prepare supper. He made his version of a chicken stir fry which meant using the minimum of olive oil and salt and using whatever fresh vegetables were available in the fridge. He prepared jasmine rice to go with it and was just putting the finishing touches to it when he heard Kate's key in the door. He pulled the pan from the hot plate and turned as she walked into the kitchen. She was so beautiful and his eyes softened as she came to him. She put her arms around his neck and moulded her body to his. "Hello my handsome chef." He dipped his head and kissed her gently, savouring her soft lips and the way her fingers caressed the hair at the back of his neck. "Hello...beautiful…" He looked down at her as she stroked his cheek and traced her finger down his jaw. "Everything alright?" Her eyes were questioning.

"Yes...fine." He turned to the cooker so she couldn't see his expression. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving - didn't have time for lunch today." She began to set the table.

"Do you want wine with supper?" he asked as he went to take glasses down from the cupboard over the counter.

"Umm...no thank you Martin. I'll just have some sparkling water tonight. I am quite tired - wine will just make me even lazier."

He looked intently at her. "Are you alright? Any other symptoms apart from tiredness? Any nausea, dizziness…"

Kate looked up at him with her eyebrows raised. "I'm fine Martin. No other symptoms...just common or garden tiredness caused by a seemingly endless day." She placed a mat in the middle of the table for the hot pan to rest on. "Alright?"

"Mmm...yes." He took off and folded the apron he was wearing and then placed the pan of stir fry and the bowl of rice between them on the table.

Kate began to dish up. "This smells absolutely divine Martin. You know, you could easily open a restaurant when you retire one day."

Martin looked appalled. "A restaurant!"

"Yes...a bistro-style restaurant. Ellingham's has a nice ring to it don't you think?" she said innocently.

Martin's lip curled then he relaxed a little when he saw the impish look on Kate's face. One day he might be able to recognise straight away when she was teasing.

While they ate, Kate told Martin about her mother's call. "The Reverend Gray has the first two Saturdays in February available for the wedding Martin. Which one would suit you best?"

He looked at her intently. "The first Saturday. The sooner the better."

She smiled and reached across for his hand. "And the first Saturday it shall be."

He grunted and resumed eating.

When they'd tidied up they went to the sitting room and Kate curled up next to him on the sofa. He had the latest edition of the Lancet open and she'd put some music on. Kate put her hand on his thigh and looked up at him. "Are you going to tell me how it went?"

Martin looked at his journal. He wasn't really ready to talk about it yet. He still felt a bit raw and this was after only one session. How was he going to feel after the next and the next? If he lasted that long.

"Umm...it was fine. The psychologist is Dr Francis Myburgh - a colleague of Simon's late wife."

Kate waited for him to continue and when he didn't she sat up and took his hand. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to Martin. I just want to know that you're alright. You seem preoccupied."

He sat for a moment and then turned that open gaze on her. "Umm...she asked me to talk about things from my childhood that stirred up some unpleasant feelings. I thought I'd forgotten them...but they were still there...and still unpleasant." He threaded his fingers through hers. "I don't really want to talk about it right now...I just want to...be with you."

Kate moved and straddled his legs, leaning forward so she could link her hands behind his neck. "I'm right here." She bent down and trailed her lips up his jaw to nuzzle his ear and she felt his shoulder lift. "Do you really want to read that magazine right now...mmm?"

She heard it drop to the floor as his arms went around her and he shifted further down on the sofa and pulled her close. His mouth sought hers and their kiss was sensual and slow. Kate pulled his tie loose and unbuttoned his shirt. She felt his hands slide up to cup her breasts. "Mmm...that feels nice." She bent forward and this time her kiss was hot and demanding. Martin held her by the waist and turned her until she lay on the sofa and then he moved to lie on top of her.

"This feels even better," he murmured as his lips teased hers and he trailed kisses down her neck. She could feel his arousal against her body and she wanted him. She began unbuckling his belt and his hand slid up under her blouse until he felt the silky material of her bra under his fingers. "Don't you think we should go upstairs," he murmured shakily against her neck.

She slid her hands down his back and under the waistband of his trousers. "I don't want to think Martin…I want you just to love me."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	50. Chapter 50

The next day Martin met with his solicitor to discuss his father's estate. For a surgeon who'd been top in his profession his father had left little in the way of financial support for his wife. He had blown the bulk of his retirement investments on a new golf estate development in Portugal that had gone belly up. The investors had received only a few pennies in compensation for every pound that they'd invested in the now insolvent company.

Martin sat across from Alistair Brentwood and watched as he pressed a few buttons on his laptop and a spreadsheet appeared on a screen on his office wall. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Martin and just as immaculately dressed. Although they had been at the same school, he was a few years older and Martin had never really interacted much with him back then. It was only when he had dealings with his father Neville that they had become acquainted and after Neville's passing he'd become Martin's solicitor.

Alistair had a studious, retiring demeanour which belied a sharp and analytical mind. His voice was soft but precise as he began to run through the accountant's forensic report on his father's financial affairs. Martin was taken aback at the vast amount of money Christopher Ellingham had invested in the Golf Estate development - reckless was a word that sprang to mind. What was he thinking? Well clearly he hadn't been thinking at all. The bottom line was not pretty. His mother would not be destitute but the Dorchester would never be within her means again. In fact hotels of any kind would be a luxury. Her lifestyle would change from one of affluence to one of having to consider every penny and every expense in order to come out on her monthly income - just like most other pensioners had to. There would be no domestic help, no visits to beauty salons, no travel and definitely no private health care.

Martin turned his attention back to Alistair who waited for him to say something. Behind him on the wall was a portrait of his late father, Neville Brentwood who had been Henry Ellingham's solicitor. Father and son looked so alike it was uncanny.

When Martin didn't speak, Alistair went on, "We strongly advise that Mrs Ellingham sell the penthouse in Lisbon. She will realise quite a substantial amount from the sale which, if it is invested wisely, will give her an additional income on which to sustain herself. Of course she would have to purchase a more modest accommodation from that money - but it is the only viable solution."

Martin considered the reality of the situation. Any other person would be able to make a go of it on the monthly income his mother would receive from the investment as laid out by Alistair, but they were not talking about any other person. This was his mother. Her lifestyle would be severely curtailed and Martin knew she would not be happy about it. He could almost feel the storm brewing already and he knew somehow that he would bear the brunt of it.

He thought about her situation. What should his role be in her predicament? Should he help her financially - with a lump sum or a monthly amount? Should he buy her a property in England? At least she would have the benefit of receiving medical care under the National Health Services. But then he remembered her disdain at having to stay at a hotel other than the Dorchester and he realised that nothing he could provide would ever be good enough for her. And the NHS would be so far beneath her as the wife of an imminent surgeon even though the services were of the highest quality.

"Alistair, what if I made the dividends from one of my investments payable to my mother - keeping the capital in tact of course."

Alistair thought for a moment, "That could work Martin - but strictly speaking you shouldn't have to do that. Your mother will have a viable amount coming in every month from what's left of your father's estate if she sells the Lisbon property. She will have a comfortable lifestyle but certainly not the one she has been used to."

The face of Neville Brentwood looked down as if to say, "This is not your problem Martin." The distinguished looking man had passed away some years before but Martin remembered him with fondness. Neville had taken him under his protection and had firmly guided him through the very difficult time after his grandfather's death and his father's subsequent bullying. He sighed. His own investments were substantial. He didn't live an extravagant lifestyle. His needs were simple and his hobbies weren't excessive. There were some of his colleagues whose hobbies required ridiculous amounts of money to pursue - one was a power boat enthusiast and another collected vintage motor cars. His clocks were more a labour of love, as he didn't actually own them. He gave of his time not money. His hi-fi equipment had cost a bit when he'd first bought it because he'd wanted good quality sound but it wasn't an ongoing expense. The only other indulgence was the occasional trip abroad which he hadn't done in years because of his workload and the research unit. When he travelled he liked the best accommodation and the best flights but other than that, he explored on his own.

The legacy from his grandfather had given him a good start. It had paid for his medical education and had enabled him to buy property but the capital was still largely intact. Logically he could put that money to good use to alleviate his mother's situation but he could never insult his grandfather's memory by diverting any of those funds to his mother. Henry Ellingham had treated Margaret with the bare minimum amount of civility. There had been no love lost between the two of them. He had recognised her for what she was: a cold, calculating and ambitious woman whose sole purpose in life was looking after herself.

Martin looked across the desk, "Alistair - have a look at one of my investments - just not my grandfather's - and see what you can come up with by way of supplementing my mother's income. It would have to be a monthly amount, not annual. My mother is clearly not good with money so an annual amount wouldn't last."

Alistair nodded and agreed to draw up some figures. They chatted briefly about Martin's other investments and then Martin brought up his upcoming marriage to Kate. Alistair's face broke into a smile and he got up and shook Martin's hand. "Congratulations Martin. Very happy for you. When is the big day?"

"The first Saturday in February. Umm...I would like it if you could be there - but it will be down in Cornwall so it might not…"

"I would be delighted Martin. Let me know the details and Cecilia and I will be there." He paused. "May I know her name?"

"Who?"

"Your bride to be." Alistair smiled expectantly.

"Her name is Kate Rushton." Alistair noticed how Martin's face softened when he said it. He couldn't be happier for the man. Alistair mentioned the matter of a marriage contract and outlined what it entailed. He would draw something up and they could meet to discuss the details in a few weeks.

When Martin left Alistair's office he thought about his mother again. He knew he would have to tell Kate about this, after all she was going to be his wife and he didn't want to have any secrets from her. She was not going to be happy judging by the way she'd talked about his mother in the past. She was protective of him and she wouldn't like it one bit. For him it was more to soothe his own conscience than an act of philanthropy. It would keep his mother at a distance, keep her from complaining and contacting him. Or he hoped so in any case.

Thinking of his mother made his thoughts turn to the list Francis had asked him to make. He frowned. All the incidents that spontaneously sprang to mind were unpleasant. He didn't really want to recall any of them. It was like pushing open the door to a darkened room full of malevolent ghosts. He sneered at himself. Psychobabble claptrap! But he couldn't refuse to do it. As a surgeon, if he told someone to follow a regime so that they could be healthy again and they refused, he would give them a piece of his mind or tell them to find another surgeon. He wouldn't expect Francis to be any different, so he would have to suspend his scepticism of the process and do as she asked - God help him.

Over the next few days Martin wrote the list in the silence of his rooms after his consultations were over. It was difficult and when he was done he felt unsettled. He felt a strange sadness for Martin the child as if he were seeing another little boy and not himself. The boy who'd had to face the world on his own. He only realised as he wrote, just how alone that boy had been and his fear seemed to radiate from the page.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin had just finished evening rounds and was heading back to his rooms with the habitual post-rounds scowl on his face. He'd just shut the door to his consulting room when his mobile rang. He took it from his inside pocket and answered with an abrupt, "Ellingham."

"Mart...it's Chris. How are you mate?"

"Umm...I'm fine…thanks."

Chris chuckled. "Well you're more than fine from what I hear. I thought I'd call and offer my congratulations. Fine friend you are for not letting me know you're getting married."

Martin cleared his throat, "Yes...well...I was going to…"

"I'm sure you were and you'll get the chance to bring me up to speed sooner than you think. I'm in your neck of the woods attending some meetings. Perhaps we could meet for an early supper? How does Friday evening suit you?"

"Ahh...yes...fine...that should be fine."

"I'm looking forward to meeting the woman who's captured your heart mate." Martin could picture Chris's open friendly face. Chris was the only person in his entire life who had persistently ignored his prickly and abrasive manner and had, for some unfathomable reason of his own, wanted to be friends with him. Chris had ignored his rudeness and had seen past the gruff exterior. He'd defended him when others had belittled him, either to his face or behind his back. Chris had been more streetwise and would say his piece in no uncertain terms when other students took advantage of him. They weren't in each other's pockets and didn't speak all that regularly but they kept in touch and, every now and then, Chris and his wife Helen would insist that he meet them for lunch or dinner whenever they were in London. His wife was just like him: open and forthright and totally accepting of Martin. As he disconnected the call he found that he was actually looking forward to introducing Kate to the Parsons. Besides Simon, they were the closest he would ever get to having friends and he knew they would love her.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Martin stood at the basins in the scrub room running his arms under the stream of water gushing from the tap. He had two procedures for that day and the first was already lying prepped and ready for him in the theatre. He heard footsteps and turned to see Kate walk in. She smiled and came to stand next to him at the basins and began to scrub up.

He felt her eyes on him and turned to look down at her. "Do you know how sexy you are Mr Ellingham?" she murmured so softly he could hardly hear her.

Martin twisted around to make sure they were alone then he grunted and bumped the tap lever off with his elbow and leaned over to pull some paper towels from the dispenser. His eyes were soft as he bent close to her and murmured, "So are you." Kate's face lit up. She never tired of his soft, velvety voice. She leaned over him to pull some paper towels from the dispenser and dried her hands slowly as she stared into his beautiful grey eyes. In them she could see his love and she smiled in a way that told him she liked what she saw.

He gave a little cough, "We have to be at the restaurant to meet the Parsons at 6.30 - do you have to go home first?"

"No - I brought a suitable change of clothes with me. We can leave straight from here if you like?"

"Yes."

Just then the scrub nurse walked in to assist Martin with his gloves and gown but his eyes never left Kate as she finished up at the basins. The nurse was aware of the vibe between the two and smiled inwardly. Mr Ellingham had certainly changed a lot since he'd formed the relationship with Kate. He hardly shouted at anyone these days - especially when Kate was around. When she was near his eyes were soft and she could tell that the man adored her. What a change. She'd heard they were getting married soon. It just went to prove that everyone had someone out there who could love them and whom they could love. She sighed and finished knotting the ties behind the tall man's back. If this grumpy, seemingly miserable man could find someone who gave him such happiness and love then one day she could find such a person too.

Kate looked up and smiled into Martin's eyes. She made him feel loved and wanted and he knew he would do anything to make her happy. Anything. And even though he was not looking forward to his next session with Francis because all the old wounds would be scratched open again, he would go for as long as it took so that he could come to a place where he need never push Kate away again.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	51. Chapter 51

Chris and Helen Parsons were the first to arrive at the popular little seafood restaurant in Notting Hill. They were shown a table near the back and took their seats, thankful to at last be out of the freezing weather. Sleet had been falling for most of the afternoon making things unpleasant and unsafe underfoot on the slippery pavements but with less than three weeks to go until Christmas there were still a surprising number of people out and about, completely undeterred by the appalling weather.

Chris pulled the scarf from around his neck and hung it over the back of his chair and rubbed his hands together. "A nice bottle of red wine would be just the thing, yeah? Should we order so long?"

"We might as well. Martin won't have any...not sure about his fiancé though."

They pored over the wine list and, after chatting to the restaurant's wine expert, decided on Zonnebloem Pinotage, a South African wine.

When he'd left Helen turned to look at the massive fish tank against the wall near them - its subdued lighting cast a mellow glow. There was something so relaxing about watching fish undulating in-between the aquatic plants. Soft music added to the relaxed ambiance.

Chris settled into his chair, "Well...they should be here any minute. I wonder what she's like. Now that I think about it...I don't know what type of girl Martin would be attracted to these days. Blonde or brunette? Short or tall?"

"Not short - Martin's far too tall." Helen looked thoughtful. "I think she would have to be on the quiet side though to fit in with Martin's serious nature. I can't imagine him being able to handle someone too bubbly - it would drive him up the wall."

"She would also have to be quite accommodating to put up with Martin's quirks. I hope she's not the submissive type."

Helen shook her head. "I don't think so - Martin wouldn't like a wallflower either...I'm sure of it."

Chris thought about that. He remembered Martin's first romantic encounter at med school with one Edith Montgomery. Now there was a strong, pushy female if ever there was one. She'd been neither blonde nor dark but a redhead. Both he and Helen had taken an instant dislike to her and they couldn't understand Martin's fascination with her. Chris put it down to it being Martin's first proper sexual encounter and he'd been naive enough to think he was in love. He'd only been twenty or twenty one - if that, and she was older. She had pursued him, flattered him and used him. He'd attracted attention as something of a prodigy at med school and she latched onto him, sucked the knowledge out of him and gleaned all the insights he had - he just seemed to know everything without trying. Chris knew just how much effort Martin had put into his studies. Every waking moment he was immersed in his books or putting in extra time in the labs and she benefited from it. And the bonus for Edith was that his father was Christopher Ellingham and Christopher Ellingham was connected. She'd known how to keep her options open.

Thank God his relationship with Edith had gone nowhere. By the time they'd graduated she'd dropped Martin like a hot potato and she'd eventually left the UK to pursue her career. She'd got what she wanted and it was time to move on. For a long while afterwards Martin had withdrawn completely from getting involved with anyone and when he eventually did, it had been on his terms - emotionally detached and without the possibility of long term prospects. Chris had heard talk about Martin's liaisons from time to time, mostly with colleagues who were like-minded - strictly no strings attached. He knew Helen was aware of Martin's dalliances too but it was a topic of conversation she didn't encourage. It's Martin's private life Chris - so keep it private she always said.

Chris remembered thinking that Martin in his twenties and early thirties became even more of an enigma - totally aloof, almost cold and yet Chris knew the other side of him: the Martin who was as solid as a rock, who'd looked out for him, who would work punishing hours or would sleep in the hospital to be near a vulnerable patient who was under his care. It had saddened him to think that he was missing out on finding a partner with whom to share his life, to start a family - someone who would make the man smile or at least be happier. And now it seemed he had found someone.

He looked up as Helen said, "I still can't believe you didn't ask Martin what his fiancé's name was."

He shrugged, "We weren't on the phone very long - you know how Martin is. He hates talking on the phone."

Helen shook her head and smiled. "This is such a big step for him Chris. I actually can't believe that we are sitting in this restaurant waiting to be introduced to the woman Martin is going to marry. I had come to think of him as a confirmed bachelor."

Chris nodded. "Yeah...I must say I never saw this as part of Martin's future either. He's always shied away from commitment." He paused, "She must be quite special for him to have proposed. I've been trying to imagine what kind of..."

Helen cut in, "Well whatever she's like, Martin is our friend so we'll be nice to her."

Chris nodded, "Martin is a pretty sensitive bloke though so I hope she _is_ nice or he'll pick up that we're treading water. Imagine if she's another Edith Montgomery."

Helen's face spoke volumes but then she said, "If he's happy then we should be happy for him, so it shouldn't be too difficult to show some enthusiasm...for his sake..alright?"

Chris fiddled with the cutlery in front of him, "I heard a rumour...must be about a year ago, that he had been involved with someone at St Mary's. Didn't believe it at first. Mart has always been discreet…but this time the rumours were flying..."

Helen frowned at her husband and he held up his hands as if to say whoa. "I'm not giving away any intimate secrets Helen. Apparently this was common knowledge at St Mary's and you know how talk spreads in the medical fraternity. I think her name was Lara or something like that. Who knows? Maybe it was more than just a fling."

Just then he saw Martin enter the restaurant and he raised his hand and waved him over. He was alone. That didn't bode well. He hoped things were alright as he watched his tall friend make his way between the tables. He was such a distinguished looking bugger - never a hair out of place and always looked as if he was in charge, as if he owned the room. He stood up as Martin approached.

"Mart...good to see you mate." They shook hands and Helen stepped closer and put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a peck on the cheek. It always made the colour rise in his cheeks no matter how many times she did it.

Martin took off his overcoat, brushing away drops of moisture as he folded it neatly and lay it over the back of his chair before sitting down. Chris and Helen looked at him expectantly. "Oh...umm...Kate has been held up at the hospital...last minute procedure. She'll be here shortly."

The waiter brought the wine and while they waited for him to uncork the bottle Helen quizzed Martin, "So your fiancé's name is Kate and it sounds like she is also in the medical profession?"

Martin nodded. "She's a senior theatre sister in the vascular research unit at St Mary's. A very good one too."

He waited until the waiter had poured the wine then placed his order of sparkling water with a slice of lemon.

Helen twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers. "So how long have you been seeing each other?"

Martin's eyes narrowed as he calculated, "About eight months or so but we only got engaged three weeks ago." He dipped his chin.

Chris raised his glass, "We're pleased for you mate. And there we were thinking you were a confirmed bachelor."

Martin looked at him with his open gaze. "Yes…"

Helen listened as the men began to talk about medical matters and she took the opportunity to scrutinise Martin. He looked as dapper as ever in a light grey suit with pale blue shirt and dark blue, striped tie. Outwardly he looked the same as always: stern, with a little frown on his brow, but she detected another layer to him that she couldn't quite define. She was trying to work it out when she saw Martin's demeanour change. He sat straighter and his eyes went round and soft as his gaze focussed on the door of the restaurant. She saw a woman entering and the manager pointing to where they sat. Was this Martin's fiancé? She was absolutely beautiful. A swift glance at Chris showed that he was just as bowled over as she was. Martin stood up and the woman walked up to him, her eyes only on him and as she reached him she put her hand on his chest and kissed his cheek before she turned her attention to Chris and Helen, greeting them with a warm smile.

Introductions were made and they all sat down. Helen looked at Martin and saw the adoration on his face as he gazed at Kate. What she saw convinced her that this was no ordinary relationship. She had seen the same look of pleasure in Kate's eyes when she had spotted Martin at the table. They were truly in love.

"Can I offer you some of this red wine Kate," Chris held up the bottle, "It's South African and really good."

"I'd love some, thank you."

Once they'd settled and ordered their meals, Helen turned to Kate, "When Chris told me that Martin was getting married I must admit I was so surprised...then..."

"Oh she was more than surprised," quipped Chris, "it's the first time I have seen Helen speechless since we got married twelve years ago."

Helen gave him a mock frown. "Well yes I was speechless actually because the last time I looked, Martin was showing signs of being a confirmed bachelor. And I couldn't be happier that he's not!" She looked at Martin. "I am dying to know how you two met...come on...let's have all the details please Martin."

Martin dipped his chin and looked helplessly at Kate and she touched his arm lightly and smiled. "Well, we met about eight months ago at St Mary's. I'd joined the vascular surgical team and I was scheduled for my first procedure with Martin - I was so excited and was heading for the scrub room and literally collided with him as he was coming out."

Chris laughed, "I can only imagine what he said."

"Yes…" Kate laughed. "I had my first taste of those fierce eyes and biting tongue. Very intriguing...but it was my second meeting with Martin that intrigued me even more."

She grinned mischievously at Martin and the Parsons both noticed the slight blush as he dipped his chin even further.

"I went to his rooms to take a patient file he'd forgotten behind after the procedure so that he could complete the report. His rooms were deserted so I went into his consulting room thinking I'd put it on his desk with a note and the next thing he frightened the daylights out of me when he suddenly appeared in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom - stark naked but for a towel around his waist."

Helen and Chris burst out laughing. "Oh dear Kate, that must have been awkward."

"It was - I don't know who blushed more, me or him. I couldn't help but see the funny side of it though but Martin wasn't having any of it. He told me to get out and I thought well _that's_ the end of my surgical career with the top vascular surgeon in Britain before it's even begun...and I'd been looking forward to it very much."

Kate's eyes sparkled with mirth as she looked at Martin. His head was still lowered and she put her hand on his arm and rubbed it gently. "But after that we seemed to get on just fine in the operating theatre, didn't we?"

"Yes…" he said with his eyes on hers.

"Come on Mart...now it's your turn to tell us what your first impressions were."

Martin's eyes grew round but then he looked at Kate and spoke as if he was speaking just to her. "The first time I saw Kate in the scrub room...after we'd bumped into one another...she smiled...and it was as if it lit up the whole room. I was completely thrown. She did the same when we...err...met in my rooms later that morning. I had never seen anyone so beautiful…"

Kate's eyes melted and she had to restrain herself from leaning over and kissing his lips. She squeezed his arm instead. "If only I'd known you thought that way Martin, it would have saved us a lot of trouble." She looked at the Parsons and grinned, "We had a bit of a rocky personal relationship after that you see - Martin's manner was a little difficult for me to grasp and we had a few...umm...squabbles."

Chris gave a snort. "Nothing's changed since I met him at medical school. He's a grumpy bugger." But his comment was softened by a fond smile.

Kate looked from Chris to Martin. "You've known each other a long time."

Chris took a sip of wine. "Yes…I first met the stripling at one of the orientation classes at medical school. I remember thinking this boy must be visiting for the day - he should still be at school. He was so young. Most of us were at least two to three years older. But out of all of us, he was the most serious and grown up. Of course when everyone knew he was Christopher Ellingham's son, some immediately thought he was being favoured - he soon saw them off."

Martin looked down into his glass and turned it in a circle on the highly polished wood of the table. Kate could see that he wasn't comfortable with the spotlight on him and she put her hand out and touched his thigh lightly.

Chris went on. "We were put into groups for the practicals - anatomy classes and the like. The two of us were assigned to the same group from the start and Mart was stuck with me right through - unlucky for him, very lucky for me. I for one was grateful. It soon became apparent to the whole class - lecturers included, that Mart knew more than anyone - kept the lecturers on their toes." He chuckled and shook his head as he reminisced. "He was streets ahead of all of us on every level. When we first began our dissection sessions it was as if he had done it before - completely at home, unlike some of the group. I will never forget Mart's look of utter disgust when one of the chaps threw up on the first day - it was the first time I heard him call someone an imbecile."

Martin gave a little cough. "Yes well...you would think that a person who wanted to be a doctor would have a stronger stomach, wouldn't you?" and frowned.

Chris told some very funny stories about their student days. Martin for the most part had kept very much to himself while Chris had been a typical student who's desire to party often played havoc with his studies.

Chris shook his head as he looked at his friend across the table. "I can categorically say that if it wasn't for Mart knocking some sense into me...covering for me...and yes, brow beating me, I would never have got through med school." Kate could see the warm look in Chris's eyes as he smiled at Martin who mumbled, "Well I don't know about that...you had the brains and the ability...your propensity for spending evenings at the pub was the main problem."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me." He cocked his head at Kate, "The times I ended up at Mart's flat not knowing how I got there and waking up to find him glaring down at me as if he was my father…" he chuckled. "But he'd make me breakfast and shove me in the shower, sometimes clothes and all and hound me until I was presentable enough to be seen in public…then drag me off to classes kicking and screaming." He smiled at Martin. "I'm still eternally grateful mate."

Martin grunted.

Kate was so proud of him and the story Chris told just cemented her belief that Martin was a good person to his core. That he was fond of the Parsons was beyond doubt.

Their meals arrived and the conversation was light as they ate. Kate felt completely at home with the Parsons and from time to time she would look at Martin and smile and she would see the little lines appear around his eyes which meant that he was smiling too.

As usual Martin listened more than he talked. His eyes constantly strayed to Kate. He loved how animated her face became when she talked about her family home in Cornwall and her parents and about him. No-one had ever spoken with such pride and warmth when talking about him and he dipped his chin as a faint blush crept up from under his collar as Kate regaled the Parsons about how he'd proposed to her.

Helen looked at Martin, "I knew there was a romantic streak lurking beneath that serious exterior Martin."

Chris finished the last of his wine and put the glass down. "So when's the big day?"

Kate put her hand on Martin's arm and looked up at him before she said, "The first Saturday in February - down in Cornwall. You'll come won't you? We can arrange accommodation for you - it won't make sense for you to travel back after the reception."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

After their plates had been cleared and the waiter had taken their order for coffee, Kate and Helen went to the Ladies restroom together and as they stood at the basins Helen said, "I am so very happy for you and Martin. I had given up all hope that he would ever fall in love and just be...happy. How ever did you manage it...to get through to him?"

Kate smiled and her eyes were soft. "I don't know...all I know is that there was something about him that intrigued me from the moment I laid eyes on him. His manner was so abrasive but I sensed a vulnerability - as if he was purposefully pushing people away."

Helen nodded, "Yes, it took me quite a while to get used to Martin's way too. But he is a real softy deep down. He feels things deeply but he has learned to hide it very well."

"I know...but he is learning to open up...with me."

Helen plumped her short curly brown hair into place and straightened her blouse. "Martin is a wonderful man...he is godfather to our eldest boy Dan and has taken the role very seriously. Never forgets an occasion - has started a fund for him - for whatever he wants to do when he leaves school. It's typical of Martin - when he does something, he does it properly."

Kate looked surprised. Godfather!

"He was Chris's best man at our wedding too. At times I could tell that he was completely out of his depth but he planned everything with absolute precision. The only thing he didn't participate in was the bachelor party - but he was there and he looked after Chris who was very much the worse for wear afterwards." She shook her head as she remembered. "But he made sure that Chris was alright and nursed him through the worst hangover of his life." They laughed at the picture they must have made - of the stern, disapproving Martin and the gregarious, inebriated Chris.

"I didn't know he was anyone's godfather Helen...Martin doesn't really talk about things unless a specific point is raised or you ask him directly."

"Yes...that's how we know Martin too. But it's not done deliberately. It just doesn't occur to him. Martin learned the hard way that talking always attracted unwanted attention." She turned from the mirror and looked at Kate. "Have you met Martin's father?"

Kate shook her head.

"On first meeting him you would think he is the most charming man. But we had the misfortune to see how he was with Martin in private. I have never heard a father speak to a child like that. Despicable man. Belittled and harrassed Martin - mocked his achievements and ridiculed him, saying he would never amount to much. And all in that posh, smiling voice. Chris hated him...called him a pompous arse and told him to leave Martin alone. Well you can imagine - he got a blasting from Ellingham senior - said he would make sure that Chris never saw the inside of an operating theatre and he did just that…until Martin found out. Martin went all the way up to the top, fighting his father's interference and he succeeded. But in the end Chris didn't want to go into surgery - it wasn't for him. But he never forgot Martin's tenacity in righting the injustice of the whole thing. He is as straight as an arrow that man."

Kate was shocked at Christopher Ellingham's behaviour - but not at Martin's - that didn't surprise her at all. She knew Martin's parents were abysmal but his father sounded as bad, if not worse than his mother. Poor Martin couldn't count on the support of either of them and he had no siblings to turn to. Her heart just melted with love for him. "You know Martin's father passed away recently don't you?"

"No I didn't...but good riddance I say."

"Martin's mother didn't even tell him. Had the funeral and everything then pitched up three weeks later demanding that Martin deal with the mess of his father's estate."

"Not surprised at all...she's a real witch."

Kate paused then said, "Yes...I am always amazed at how Martin turned out despite his terrible experiences. He is so loving and gentle and as solid as a rock."

Helen saw her expression and knew that she understood Martin - that she felt a deep empathy with him and was strong enough for him. She smiled. "I am so glad he has met you Kate. He has needed someone strong in his life - strong and loving - and I can see you love him very much."

"Yes...I do. There are times he still feels...insecure. But he's trying. It breaks my heart to see just how badly damaged he is...but he is learning to trust." She combed her fingers through her long hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. "And despite everything he is such a caring person. Once when I assisted and he lost a patient on the table I saw how it affected him...no-one can feel that way if they are hardened to life's tragedies. He was devastated."

"That's how we know him too."

They at last made their way back to the table where Chris and Martin were deep in conversation over their coffee cups. Before they knew it, it was already almost 10 pm and they all reluctantly got up to leave. Helen and Kate hugged before parting ways and they promised to be in touch about the wedding arrangements.

In the taxi ride home Kate sat close to Martin and tucked her arm through his. The wine made her feel mellow and she cuddled close and he didn't seem to mind. And when they finally arrived home, he opened the front door and switched on the lamps in the sitting room. Kate shrugged out of her coat and threw it over the back of a chair then went to where he stood. "I've wanted to do this all evening." She wound her arms around his neck and she felt his arms go around her. Her fingers stroked the hair on the back of his head. "I love you so much my darling man."

His eyes were soft as they gazed into hers. "Mmm...love you too," he murmured and dipped his head until their lips met in a gentle kiss.

"I like the Parsons. They are lovely people Martin. Are you going to ask Chris to be your best man?

Martin frowned. "Best man? Umm...do I have to…"

"Yes Martin...it's a traditional wedding remember?"

He grunted and bent his head again. This time his kiss was firmer, coaxing - teasing her lips between his then deepening until the passion ignited between them. "Upstairs mister," Kate murmured breathlessly against his mouth.

"Mmm…" He took her hand and they made their way up pausing at the top of the stairs to kiss again.

"Do I have to have a best…"

"Yes Martin...Chris would be so honoured...he was honoured when you were his best man."

Martin looked surprised.

"Helen told me…"

"Ahh…" He trailed his mouth down the side of her neck and she hummed with pleasure.

Kate moulded herself to the length of his body. "I don't want to think about best men right now."

His hand slid around from the small of her back and up to cup her breast. "Neither do I." His voice was thick with desire as he backed her slowly into their bedroom and best men were totally forgotten as they lost themselves in one another.

ooooOOOOoooo

 **As usual I must thank everyone for their reviews and PMs - I look forward to them and they are always appreciated.**

 **As you will have noticed, I couldn't help plugging South African wines in this chapter - if you haven't tried any and they are available where you live, you should give them a try. They're top notch.**


	52. Chapter 52

On Saturday morning Kate met Jen at a coffee shop near Holland Park so they could begin planning the wedding. She'd left Martin at home with his latest clock and he was also preparing for a lecture he was giving in London in the New Year.

Over their coffee and muffins Kate and Jen began making lists of what needed to be done. There was so much to do but she knew that Jen, for all her extrovert and bubbly personality, was organised and she would tackle her tasks with the same enthusiasm she applied to everything else in her life. They created a plan of action with set deadlines for each thing that had to be arranged.

Kate had already made an appointment to discuss her wedding dress at one of her favourite boutiques whose owner she and Jen had known since their days at high school in Truro. Jen would come too so that she could choose hers at the same time.

"We're also going to have to get the invitations out this coming week if possible Kate. There are only two months to go and we still have to have them printed and mailed. I suggest you do what a lot of people do these days - we'll design your invitation and send it via email first and then follow up with the printed one. That way guests can reserve the date now. A lot of them will have to book accommodation, so time is of the essence."

Jen was right - fortunately the guest list was finalised. She had spoken to her mother several times and she'd already emailed her guest list with contact details. One last minute addition had surprised Kate. Martin had told her that he'd had a call from Aunty Joan and she had reminded him that he should invite his other aunt to the wedding. Her name was Ruth Ellingham, also a doctor, a psychiatrist, now retired, who lived in London but travelled a lot. Kate was taken aback. Martin had never mentioned her and he obviously didn't see her much even though she lived in the same city. She wondered what Ruth Ellingham was like. Martin hadn't objected to having her at the wedding so she obviously couldn't be compared to his mother, or to his father for that matter, even though they were brother and sister.

On Monday evening Kate and Jen went to their appointment at the boutique to choose their dresses. Kate wanted something simple - no long trains or heavy veils. Something that suited her understated but elegant taste and Liz Bertram the boutique owner seemed to nail it in the first five minutes. She showed Kate a range of dresses in a catalogue - they could choose any one of them and adapt it for her personally. As they flipped through the pages Kate paused over one and she knew that it was the one. All three of them agreed that the dress was perfect for Kate. Once she'd chosen, Jen looked at other catalogues and before long they were done and Liz was taking measurements. She would order the material and get her seamstress on the go immediately. They would have to come for fittings at regular intervals over the next four weeks.

When she got home about 8.30 Martin had only been home a little while and he looked tired. She sighed inwardly. She worried about him. From the time he left for his morning rounds to the time he got home twelve or sometimes even fourteen hours later, he never stopped and she was pleased that they were at least going to have a little break over Christmas.

She went to where he sat on the sofa with a medical journal open on his lap and cuddled up against him and kissed him gently on the cheek. "You look tired. Everything alright?"

"Mmm..yes."

"Have you eaten?"

"Err...I had lunch with Simon in his rooms."

"But no supper."

He looked at her from under his brows. He sensed that he was going to be on the receiving end of her disapproval. He didn't have to answer.

"Martin, you can't not eat. You should know this. You will undermine your health and I won't have it."

He looked sideways at her and gave a little cough, "It was too late to eat by the time I finished up."

"Nonsense. You don't have to eat a full meal, but you should eat a sandwich or have a cup of soup or something." Kate worried about him. He was a big man and when he didn't eat the weight just fell off of him. She stroked the silky hair at the back of his neck and she saw him close his eyes as he yielded to the soothing feeling.

"I'm going to make some tea and I am going to make you a sandwich. Alright?" Her tone was firm as she leaned over and put her lips to his neck just under his ear and felt his shoulder lift.

"Mmm…" He pulled her gently so that she lay in his arms and sought her mouth and she kissed him back but then slowly pulled away.

"Not so fast handsome." She got up. "Tea and a sandwich first."

He followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter watching as she prepared everything. She told him about her meeting with Jen and Liz and about the list that she and Jen had drawn up over the weekend. He looked a little bewildered and she told him not to worry. "All you need to do is organise the honeymoon and the ring. We can even go and look at rings together if you like."

Kate sat at the table with him as he ate and was satisfied to see that he almost wolfed the sandwich down. She poured more tea for both of them. "Would you like another sandwich?"

He shook his head and held up his hand. "No...thank you."

Once they'd tidied up, Kate said she was going upstairs to bed. It was already after 9 pm. By the time she finished in the bathroom Martin had already changed into his pyjamas. He'd showered earlier in his rooms so he brushed his teeth and came to lie next to her under the duvet. She reached over and switched off the bedside lamp then immediately wrapped herself around him and her hand went under his t-shirt to stroke his chest. He would never get used to the wonderful feeling of it, no matter how many times she did it. It felt comfortable and relaxing and sensual all at the same time. He loved how she cared about him and scolded him in a way that showed love and not criticism or irritation. He pulled her closer and stroked her shoulder wishing she wasn't wearing her sleepshirt so he could feel her skin. Maybe not tonight. Instead he said, "Umm...about the honeymoon…"

Her fingers found his nipple and circled it. "Mmm...what about it?"

"Have you got any preferences...of where you would like to go?"

"No my darling...I will leave that entirely up to you." She murmured against his chest. "It will be a nice surprise...mmm?"

Martin groaned inwardly. He was hoping she would give him just a little hint. Now he was left with the entire planet to choose from and it made him uneasy. What if he chose a place she didn't like? Maybe he should play it safe and choose France again. But that wouldn't be original. They could always stop over in Paris - because it was where they'd first made love and where she'd agreed to marry him. And she loved Paris. But maybe she would like somewhere more exotic - like the Caribbean or Thailand. Martin swallowed hard. Just thinking about it made him stress. How would he know if he was doing the right thing?

He listened to Kate's even breathing. He knew she would go along with whatever he chose and she wouldn't utter a word of complaint. But that wasn't good enough. No...a little more research was needed.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

That Wednesday Martin presented himself in Francis' rooms at five minutes to four. Once again the waiting room was empty but for Kylie, who greeted him cheerfully. "Hi Doc - nice to see you - take a seat." He scowled at her. Doc! Really? She must have noticed that he was a surgeon from the form he'd filled in the previous week.

Right on time Francis appeared ushering a patient out and asked Martin to follow her to her consulting room. She closed the door and watched as he made his way to the chair he had occupied before. As usual he was immaculately dressed and his posture straight.

"How are you Martin?

"Fine...umm...thank you." He coughed self-consciously.

She looked at his file. "So...did you compile a list?

He drew it from his inside pocket and handed it to her. Francis indicated that he should sit and she unfolded the sheet as she sat down. He had handwritten the list and it took her a moment to get used to his handwriting. She began to read and Martin sat and twisted the ring on his finger.

"Right...so the first thing on your list that I would like you to talk about is the day you went to boarding school for the first time. Tell me about that day."

She looked at Martin who sat with his hands clasped on his lap like a schoolboy in the headmaster's office.

"Umm...it rained. We'd spent the previous day packing. The nanny had taken me to buy uniforms and kit in the previous weeks. My mother had arranged a taxi to take me to the station and another to pick me up in Windsor to take me to the school."

"Your parents didn't go with you?

"No."

"How did you feel about going to school?"

"Apprehensive. I didn't know what to expect. My nanny said I would have other boys to play with - as if that was a good thing. I had never had other boys to play with so I couldn't relate."

"Tell me about your first days there."

Martin fidgeted. "They were...not all that pleasant. I didn't fit in."

"How so?"

"I didn't know how to behave around other boys. I didn't talk much and I stood out...physically."

"Why was that Martin?"

Martin looked impatient. "Well if you haven't noticed, I have rather prominent ears. That caused no end of amusement among the other boys. And I was very small for my age."

"I see. And how did you deal with that?"

"I kept to myself - I withdrew."

"Withdrew? How?"

"Inside myself."

Francis looked at him without speaking and he stared back with that frank, open gaze. After a moment he realised she wanted him to elaborate.

"I didn't talk or interact with the other boys. If it was possible I would also withdraw physically - to the library or a prep room. Somewhere the other boys didn't want to be."

"So withdrawal is your defense mechanism?"

"Umm...I suppose so...I have never thought about it."

"What else do you remember about your first days there?"

Martin's face flushed slightly. "The trouble I caused when I wet the bed the first time. After it happened again they made me sleep with a waterproof cover under the sheet. It made a noise every time I moved. The other boys in my dormitory thought it highly amusing."

"Did they bully you?"

"Umm...I suppose they teased me - called me names. The older boys were the ones who pushed me around when the word got out that I was a bedwetter. They made me dress up."

"Dress up?"

Martin jumped up and stalked to the window. "Do I really have to go into this? I shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid and idiotic."

Francis paused. "Judging by your reaction, the humiliation has stayed with you all this time Martin. So yes...I would like you to tell me what happened."

He kept his back turned and Francis could see him twisting a ring on his finger. "They...made me wear...a cloth...like a nappy." His voice was hardly audible. "I had to parade through the passages every time I wet the bed. So the whole school knew."

Francis had often come across this kind of thing but it never ceased to shock her how cruel children could be to one another.

"Eventually the House Master arranged for me to sleep in the sick bay for a while - until he'd 'sorted out' the other boys. All it did was alienate me further. I would never be one of them."

"Did you make any friends there at all?"

He paused. "Umm...no."

"You hesitated - was there someone?"

"One boy...who was much like me. A bit different. Quiet. But he was picked on when he talked to me or sat with me at meals. After a while he stopped because the older boys mocked him. I didn't blame him for staying away. He left the school after the first half term anyway."

Martin turned from the window and his expression was once again composed.

Francis looked at the list. "You have also written about being locked under the stairs. This has come up in conversation as well. Tell me how you came to be locked up. What precipitated it?"

"I usually made my mother angry."

"Can you remember what kind of things made your mother angry?"

"Of course I do…"

She waited and when he didn't respond, she said, "Can you elaborate Martin?"

He came and sat down again, settling himself before he answered. "Asking questions would annoy her...how things worked or what a word meant. It irritated my mother."

"How would she show her irritation."

"Usually by ignoring me. As if I wasn't there. Or she would send me from the room."

"When your mother ignored you, how did that make you feel?"

He frowned. "Insignificant. Humiliated."

"Would anyone ever answer your questions Martin...your father...?"

Martin's expression was derisive. "My father was hardly ever around..." He frowned as he tried to remember. "Sometimes the nanny would explain words or get books from the library downstairs for me. My father didn't want me in the library. He said children were filthy - and destructive."

"How would you describe your relationship with your father? Was he easier to talk to than your mother?"

Martin's lip curled. "No...we never talked. My father was just as distant and he was more...unpredictable."

"How so?"

"He could be smiling and then be angry all in a split second. At least my mother was consistently cold."

"So you never knew when his mood would change or what could spark his anger?"

"No - it could be anything - being too noisy, being too quiet. He didn't like it if I stared at him." He gave a little cough, "I do that sometimes when I am evaluating what someone has said - before I speak. But he thought I was just being insolent or plain stupid as he often called me."

Francis nodded and looked down at the list again. "Explain your time under the stairs for me Martin, you don't say what it was like...how you felt when you were there."

"What do you want to know about it?"

"Everything."

Martin frowned. "It was dark and small. It smelled of damp and was packed with boxes and bric a brac. And there were noises - when people walked up or down the stairs. There was a little line of light that filtered in under the door...just enough to read by once my eyes got used to the dark. There was a box with some books there and sometimes I would read or try to...I sometimes didn't understand them…" He raised his eyebrow as if to say, 'ís that enough?'"

"That's good - that gives me a physical description but I want to know how you _felt_ when you were there."

Martin looked down and fidgeted. "I am not sure where you are going with this. It wasn't pleasant - is that what you want to know?"

"I want you to articulate how you felt when you were put there Martin. Subjectively. How did _you_ feel?"

"Isolated. Scared. Confused."

"Why confused?"

"Because sometimes I didn't know why I was there - what I had done wrong." he snapped and looked away.

"But your logic told you that you must have done something wrong and therefore you were locked in the cupboard."

"Yes."

"And you think you deserved to be in that cupboard."

Martin looked at his hands and it was a moment before he said, "Yes…"

"Why?"

Martin's expression reflected his frustration - as if he couldn't get through to Francis that he was just bad - he'd been born bad and his parents and later his teachers and fellow boarders all saw it and that's why they treated him the way they did. How many ways must he tell her this? He gave an exasperated sigh, "I _must_ have deserved it. Why else would they have put me there, for God's sake. There must have been a reason."

Francis put her notebook down. "Martin, here's a scenario I want you to envisage. You are watching a film and in the film there is a little boy and nothing the little boy does seems to please his parents. If he is good and sits quietly they send him to his room. When he tries to talk to them, they shut him up. When he makes a noise like any child of his age would, they punish him. They don't offer him any affection and when he seeks it they rebuff him. When he is frightened or in need of reassurance they ridicule him. They physically and mentally punish him for things he can't possibly understand and they choose their own lives and their own happiness over his. What would you think Martin?"

When he didn't answer, Francis went on. "Don't you think there is something off with this scenario Martin? What would you feel when you watch the little boy being treated like that? Does this little boy know how to interpret his parents' behaviour and can he know how to alter their treatment of him? " She paused. "If you as a doctor, were watching this film, what would you say to this little boy? And what would you say to his parents?"

Martin's face had become stony. He jumped up and went to the window again and Francis watched his hands fidgeting behind his ramrod straight back. Martin was agitated. She had struck a nerve - but what form would his reaction take? She waited.

"It is unfair. He doesn't know any better. He doesn't know that it's them and not him. How could he know?" His voice was low and tight with anger. "He couldn't know." He turned to her and his face was angry. "Some parents are cruel and unfeeling." He came back slowly and sat down. "Some people should not become parents." He looked down at his hands and his fingers automatically sought the ring on his finger. "They should never have had me. When my mother found she was pregnant she should have...done something about it."

Despite her years as a psychologist and all the stories she heard on a daily basis, Martin's words made her sad to her core. How does one damage a child's psyche so much that they view their conception as a mistake, something to be terminated - that they question their very existence?

"My thoughts are this Martin. You were not born bad. You were not born with any deficiency. Far from it. You were born with the same clean slate as any other child. Your parents however were _not_ the same as other normal, loving parents. They were different. They were the ones that shaped your perception of yourself. They instilled in you a sense of unworthiness. And because they were incapable of showing affection and incapable of providing a secure and loving home, they warped the way you see yourself and the way you interact with others. It was not your fault Martin. It was theirs."

She paused as she watched the expressions chasing each other over his face. Scepticism, confusion, resistance, sadness...

"Your job now is to recognise that it was their fault and start to recognise when the voice of your parents is taking control of your thoughts and actions. When you feel that you don't deserve affection or recognition - _that's_ the voice of your parents. You now have to learn to silence those voices and tell yourself that you are as deserving of as much affection and recognition as the next person. You _are_ worthy of all of that." She paused. "You have to defend that little boy Martin. You have to tell the voices not to treat him like that. That it's abusive and wrong."

Martin didn't respond. He looked almost shell-shocked. She realised that this was a very deep and defining moment for him. The moment when he recognised the emotional abuse for what it was. How he would act upon this knowledge remained to be seen and there was a long way to go before he would not have to consciously silence the voices that berated and belittled him. The voices that held him back.

Francis looked at the smart, poised man opposite her in the little sitting area and marvelled that he had risen to become such a successful man with the type of upbringing he'd had. She'd seen many in similar situations become dysfunctional and themselves abusive. By all accounts Martin was brilliant at what he did...but his professional life was not his personal life. Martin could function in a world where his skills and knowledge were unparalleled, but when it came to personal relationships he was exposed and vulnerable. And to protect himself he'd learned to push people away - to create a distance so that they couldn't hurt him. Until he met Kate. With her he had let his guard down long enough to form a relationship - to ask her to marry him and in so doing he had exposed a very vulnerable and fragile side of himself - one that could easily be broken.

"Previously we spoke of withdrawal as a means of coping. And it is at the root of the reason you came to see me...so I want to focus now on your relationship with your fiancé," she looked briefly down at her notes, "Kate."

Martin's expression became almost hostile as if he expected Francis to criticise or negatively analyse his relationship with her. He glowered at her from under his knitted brows and she smiled at him. "Tell me about Kate."

Martin's gaze was almost disconcerting in its intensity. "What do you want to know?"

"For a start, how did you meet?"

"At the hospital."

Francis waited.

"She was the new theatre sister in the vascular research unit at St Mary's. We bumped into one another...literally...and she smiled. It lit up her face...and her eyes." His expression softened as he spoke.

"And did your relationship progress to a personal one quickly or…"

"No...there were a few...umm...situations…" He gave a deep sigh. "I was abrupt and rude to her...on a few occasions...but she took it in her stride - put me in my place a few times." His cheeks became imperceptibly more defined which Francis realised meant that he was smiling.

"So at what point did you realise that you were in love with her?"

"Umm…" he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "One day she confronted me in my rooms about an incident in theatre. The exchange became a bit...heated...and..." a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, "and...uh...we kissed...and after she left I realised...my life had changed."

"Well clearly Kate felt the same way and your relationship has progressed to the point that you are now to be married. It must have been difficult for you to articulate your love for her."

"Yes…" He looked uncomfortable.

Francis waited for him to continue.

Martin looked down at his hands. "Yes it was...but I loved her more...needed her more...than my fear of being rejected…for the first time in my life..."

"Would you say that Kate loves you Martin?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

"And yet you say that there is occasionally friction between the two of you because of your feelings of inadequacy."

His grey eyes were as open and frank as a child's. "Yes…"

"Describe them for me."

Martin looked as if he wanted to get up and run, but his promise to Kate kept him in his seat. "I don't know what she sees in me...why she wants to be with me."

"Why do you think that? Be specific."

Martin's eyes became like chips of grey slate as he glared at Francis. "For God's sake isn't it obvious? I'm nothing to look at. I am a miserable...difficult man with no sense of humour and little patience. I'm nothing special, except for my skills as a surgeon. I'm not romantic or funny or interesting...do I have to go on?" His voice was tight and his brow furrowed into a deep frown.

"And yet she chose you…"

Martin was silent for a moment. He looked down at his hands and then shrugged. "Yes...but I always have a feeling that she will come to regret it at some stage. That she will grow weary of trying to live with a difficult and flawed man. She could have anyone she wanted...she's so beautiful..." His voice petered out.

"What sparked off the latest feelings of inadequacy…that resulted in you coming to see me?"

"We bumped into an ex-boyfriend of Kate's...I picked up that there had been some history between them. When I looked at him it made me feel...small...humiliated…"

"Why?"

Martin's voice was clipped and irritated, "Because he was young and good looking and extrovert...nothing like me...and she'd obviously found him attractive at some point in her life…so how...?"

"So how could she love you and find you attractive?" Francis put down her notebook and pen and folded her hands on her lap. "So basically you are saying that she can't possibly love you because you aren't like a previous boyfriend...that she can't possibly love you...for who you are?"

"Umm...it's not as simple as that. Kate has told me that she loves me...many times...and I believe her and yet I still feel a sense of doom lurking in the wings. Sooner or later she will give up...and she will be disgusted with me...she will see me for what I am...ridiculous and pathetic." Martin heard echoes of his mother's cold voice, dripping with disgust. "You filthy, disgusting little boy…"

"Martin...your perceptions of yourself are very harsh...very judgemental...and it's not surprising considering the type of treatment you experienced at the hands of just about everyone in your childhood. But I want you to start realising that you are judging yourself through your parents' eyes. When you hear the criticism in your mind, those are the voices of your parents - not you. They entrenched in you the perception that you were undeserving of their attention...of their affection. That you were unworthy. But you weren't unworthy, were you?"

Martin couldn't raise his eyes to meet hers.

"And now your feelings of being undeserving are being played out in your relationship with Kate. You think that no-one could love you for who you are - your parents didn't - so why should Kate be any different? You can't trust Kate's motives because you have never been able to trust _anyone's_ motives - especially in your formative years."

"I do trust Kate...but the feeling won't go away..."

Francis paused for a moment. "So after this meeting with Kate's ex-boyfriend I assume you retreated to your safe place...you withdrew. What was Kate's reaction to this?"

"She was upset...because I wouldn't talk about it. I find I can't express myself very well at times like that...it's like I have to be alone...inside…"

"And she wants you to tell her what's upsetting you?"

"Yes…"

"Do you think she's wrong to want that?"

"No."

"So what stops you from talking to her...from expressing your fears to a person who loves you?"

He looked away to where raindrops chased each other down the glass panes of the big bay window. He shrugged. "I don't know."

"How does Kate express herself at times like this - does she get angry, sad, impatient…?"

"She doesn't get angry...she worries and she's sad...she says that she's tried to reassure me but she can't get to the place that's deep inside...and so she asked me to seek help."

Francis thought for a moment. "Do you think it would help if I spoke to her?"

Martin looked up with his eyes round and questioning.

"We could all meet together...or separately."

He thought for a moment then shrugged. "If you think it would help."

"It would help me to understand your relationship with her. How you are together. With your permission I think it would be beneficial if I met with her on her own at first and later I would like to see you together."

"Fine."

"I think we should leave it there for now Martin."

Martin stood up, once more composed and seemingly self-assured.

"Please ask Kate to make an appointment in the next couple of days at her convenience. I would like to see her before your next appointment." She came to stand in front of him. "Just before you go...when I do see Kate, is there anything that we've discussed that you don't want me to disclose to her? Anything that you don't want her to know? Patient confidentiality is paramount and I will respect your privacy but if it helps for her to know certain aspects - would you have a problem, if the need arises, if I mention certain things?"

He looked down at her. "No...I don't have a problem with that. Kate is going to be my wife...I don't want to have any secrets from her." His eyes were vulnerable. "I don't know if I could tell her myself...maybe one day…"

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

On the way home Martin replayed the conversation with Francis. Would he ever get to the point where he didn't feel unworthy? It wasn't as if he consciously thought along those lines - the feeling was so ingrained in who he was that it underpinned everything. It was just there - how do you silence the unwanted voices when you can't actually hear them?

When he arrived home, Kate was already there preparing supper. The aroma of roast chicken and the cosiness of the kitchen and Kate's smile were welcoming and he went straight to her and took her in his arms.

Kate wrapped her arms around his waist. "Hello gorgeous." They kissed gently, tenderly.

He looked down at her and Kate saw the longing in his eyes. If she wasn't mistaken her man wanted to be comforted. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his head down so that his face was buried in her neck. Her hands stroked his hair gently. "I love you Martin...so very much," she whispered against his skin. In answer he gathered her close against the length of his body and they stood for a while just savouring the feeling of touching and belonging.

Eventually Kate leaned back a little so that she could look into his eyes. She smiled gently. "Rough day?"

"Mmm…" his hand came up to stroke the hair from her forehead. "Better now though…"

Kate pecked his lips. "I'd better see to the food or you will get burnt offerings for dinner."

Later as they sat and ate together, Martin told Kate that Francis had asked to meet her and would she make an appointment before his next scheduled one the following Wednesday?

Kate looked at him sitting with his eyes cast down as if he was afraid she would be upset at the request. She put her hand out and touched his. "Of course I will. I'll phone in the morning."

Much later when they were in bed and Kate lay cuddled against him, she felt the rise and fall of his chest under her cheek. She sensed that he needed just to be with her and she didn't encourage anything more than a closeness. He didn't talk about his visit to Francis and she didn't push him to...he would talk when he wanted to. She felt the warmth and firmness of his body against hers and it gave her a sense of belonging - a sense of well-being. She loved this man so much that at times it was impossible to express it. No wonder people wrote songs or poetry, she thought.

She knew the moment Martin fell asleep because his breathing became regular and a stillness settled over him. She closed her eyes and let the feeling of utter contentment wash over her until sleep claimed her too.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **I am not a therapist so the scenes I have created for Martin and Francis draw mostly upon my gut feel and some personal observation. I therefore apologise in advance for any glaring errors.**


	53. Chapter 53

It was Alistair Brentwood's last appointment of the day but so far it had also been his most frustrating. He leaned forward to look at his laptop which was to one side of his beautifully restored Victorian oak desk with its dark green leather top. The entire office looked as if it came straight out of a Victorian film set but its old, settled, comfortable décor was all authentic. Above the honey-coloured wood panelling hung portrait paintings going back a hundred and fifty years, of a long line of Brentwoods who had sat in this very office before him. The heavy dark green leather chairs showed their age but were well maintained, as was the still plush carpet underfoot. The office had kept up with the times though and had been fitted with modern devices such as the big monitor on the wall to one side that now displayed the spreadsheet he was in the process of explaining to Margaret Ellingham who sat opposite him.

"So as you can see, your situation is not nearly as dire as it first appeared Mrs Ellingham." He looked across his desk at the straight-backed, expressionless woman and waited for her response. When it came, the usually composed solicitor had a hard time controlling his shocked expression.

Margaret Ellingham turned her disdainful gaze on him, "Is this some kind of joke Mr Brentwood? That…" she said pointing at the screen, "is hardly above the poverty line. No-one can live on that."

Alistair wondered if Margaret Ellingham had any inkling of how the vast majority of people in her age group lived. On what he had proposed, she would be living way above the means of the average pensioner and yet she was sneering at it.

"I wouldn't exactly say that Mrs Ellingham. You will have a residence that's paid for and a monthly income that gives you more than enough to live a very comfortable lifestyle. You will be able to continue private healthcare should you wish to remain in Portugal. Of course you could save yourself that expense if you returned to England where you would have the benefit of NHS facilities...and of course you would be able to call upon your son's skills as a doctor."

Margaret smiled but it was a more of a sneer. "My son is a surgeon Mr Brentwood - surgeons specialise themselves right out of the ability to practice everyday medicine. He is probably no more capable of treating common ailments anymore than my plumber is." She smoothed the folds of her scarf and looked at him with a haughty, disdainful stare. "What has my son got to say about this...this…" she waved a hand towards the monitor. "Does he know what's going on?"

"Your son is fully aware of the state of your financial affairs, yes. And he has…" He couldn't finish before she cut in.

"Well he ought to do something - but then he always needs to be told what to do or he will end up doing nothing...he's always been a milksop. "

Alistair could not believe his ears. He'd been confronted with many situations in this room but he'd never witnessed such cold ingratitude. He sat up straight.

"On the contrary, Mrs Ellingham, your son, of his own accord, has freed up some of his own investments in order to supplement your income." His voice was stern and his expression flinty. "He has more than addressed your financial...err...shortfall. If it weren't for his generosity you would not be able to maintain the lifestyle you can now look forward to."

Margaret's expression didn't alter. She turned to the screen again and looked at the figure she would receive on a monthly basis and her lip curled. "Christopher and I spent almost a third of that amount on our wine and champagne collection every month."

Alistair leaned back in his chair and fought back the urge to cut her down with a scathing comment.

"Where is my son?" Margaret stared at him from under drooping eyelids with those cold and expressionless eyes. "Why isn't he here to discuss this himself?" She gave a derisive sniff. "No backbone."

Alistair opened the file on his desk. He'd had enough of this woman. Martin was his client, not his mother and he would take her through the paperwork so she could be on her way. "Your son is a busy man Mrs Ellingham. As the wife of a former surgeon I am sure you must understand that." He flicked through some papers, "I need your signature on these documents and you will have to furnish you banking details for the monthly deposit...provided by your son." He emphasised the last part of the sentence.

He slid each page across the desk and pointed at the places where she had to sign. Once they were done he stood up. He couldn't wait to get her out of his office. The woman was able to do something not many people had been able to do in his career so far: she made him angry and anger was a solicitor's enemy. It clouded the judgement and made one rash.

When she had left, Alistair sat down behind his desk again and thought about the situation. Martin had done more than most sons would have done even if they doted on their mothers. From what he could tell Martin and his mother were estranged which made it even more of a miracle that he had done anything to help her at all. But it all pointed to the person Martin was and the person he had come to know over the years...that he was a man of integrity. Alistair closed the file on his desk and stood up. He hoped Margaret Ellingham would stay away from Martin and his bride to be. For once in his life it looked as if Martin could be happy and he didn't want this harridan spoiling things with her selfish greed.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Francis ushered her patient into the reception area and looked down at the next file on the countertop. Kate Rushton. She picked it up and turned to the only other occupant seated across the far side of the room. She was half turned looking out of the window at the dripping garden beyond, her long, dark hair framing her face as she sat, deep in thought with her chin cupped in her hand.

"Miss Rushton?"

Kate turned and stood up smiling and Francis immediately understood what Martin had meant when he said that it lit up her whole face...and her eyes. And he hadn't exaggerated either when he'd said that Kate was beautiful.

"Doctor Myburgh?" Kate held out her hand.

They shook hands and Francis pointed the way down the short passage toward her consulting room. As she shut the door behind her she said, "Please call me Francis." She indicated that Kate should take one of the easy chairs in the sitting area of the room and Francis settled into another.

She observed Kate as she removed her outdoor jacket and laid it across the back of the other chair before she sat down. She came across as a poised, confident woman with an open, warm demeanour.

Francis began by saying, "Thank you for coming to see me at such short notice Kate...may I call you Kate? It makes things so much easier."

Kate smiled, "Of course and it's a pleasure."

"As you know, Martin has been to see me twice now and we have had good, insightful sessions. So my reason for wanting to meet you is twofold. The first is that Martin initiated these consultations in response to a recent incident that caused friction between the two of you - friction brought on by his profound feelings of unworthiness. So I want to understand your relationship with Martin, how you interact with each other but I also want to touch on how you both handle things going forward." She looked enquiringly at Kate. "Is that alright with you?"

"Yes...perfect."

Francis picked up her note book. "So just by way of getting some background, tell me a little about yourself Kate - your family, your upbringing and so forth."

"Right...well...I was born in Cornwall - in Portwenn. My parents are Evelyn and Edward Rushton...well my father is now deceased - he was a professor of English literature and my mother is an author - she writes under the name Catherine Penhallow."

Francis' face lit up. "Oh...I love her books...I have them all...my, what a small world..."

Kate smiled. She was used to that kind of reaction. "I am an only child - went to school in Portwenn and Truro and then on to King's College in London. I joined the team at St Mary's just over a year ago when the post came up - I had been at the hospital in Truro until then."

"How would you describe your relationship with your parents when you were growing up?"

"Wonderful…" Kate said it without hesitation. "My parents were loving...hands-on parents."

"When you say 'hands-on'...?"

"They were affectionate and always interested in everything...interested in me...how I saw the world. They were themselves interesting people...they introduced me to the world through experiences and exploration. And they were affectionate towards each other. They truly loved one another." She smiled, " Now that I have found love myself I appreciate that even more."

"Tell me how you met Martin."

"Well..." Kate smiled and Francis saw the softness in her face. "I literally collided with him the first time I met him and he was not pleased at all...but I remember looking up at him and his eyes were...riveting. It wasn't the most ideal of meetings but right from the beginning there was something about him...I sensed a vulnerability in him, a defensiveness. His prickly and rude manner were just a means of keeping people at a distance."

"So how did it come about that your relationship shifted from a professional one to something more personal?"

"Umm...well that happened quite unexpectedly. He had treated us to one of his famous displays of temper in the operating theatre and I was not happy about the way he had spoken to one of the team...so I confronted him in his rooms afterwards. Umm...he riled me and I lost my temper and accused him of not having any feelings...for not being human." Kate shifted uncomfortably. "I should never have said that...it was untrue and a mean thing to say. I only did it to get a reaction out of him. And I did...get a reaction...but not in the way I expected."

Francis waited as she watched Kate's expression.

"He kissed me...quite impulsively...and after the first shock...we...I…" She took a deep breath, "I was completely bowled over at the way he made me feel...it was like the earth fell out from underneath me. I didn't understand it fully at the time but I fell in love with him at that moment."

She paused as she recalled the moment.

"What I didn't know at the time was that his behaviour had been totally out of character...he'd acted impulsively, something Martin never does...as if he couldn't help himself." She looked up and smiled. "We had to take a step back after that and basically start all over again. He apologised for his behaviour and plucked up enough courage to invite me out to dinner. From there we slowly progressed to a point where we committed to a deeper relationship...but it was a long while before either of us declared our love. Both of us were afraid of frightening the other away with too much intensity."

"So when would you say that you noticed Martin's insecurities in your relationship?"

Kate thought for a moment. "I have always known they were there."

"How?"

"Well...it's difficult to define. I have always seen two Martins. There's Martin the surgeon - the professional and then there's the other Martin. They are polar opposites when it comes to how he is...how he interacts with people. As a surgeon you won't find a more confident and outspoken man - he really is supremely in charge. He doesn't tolerate incompetence and is unafraid to say what he thinks. He's bold and assertive. But when it comes to personal relationships…to his dealings with people...and with feelings...Martin seems almost timid. He's shy and withdrawn and cannot express himself. It really puzzled me in the beginning - I almost didn't know how to interpret him."

"But you seem to have done so now."

"Yes...Martin almost needs to be led to a place where he feels safe - where he can open up...and when he does...he regains some of his confidence. He is so passionate and considerate and...loving." A slight blush tinged Kate's cheeks and she looked down at her hands and touched her engagement ring.

Francis smiled. "This latest incident - the one that resulted in his coming to see me...how did that come about?"

"We bumped into an ex-boyfriend of mine and Martin sensed that there had been a deeper relationship than us just being old school friends. He clammed up - wouldn't express his thoughts or his feelings. I sensed that he was jealous...that it made him feel insecure. But Martin is a complex man...I needed him to tell me why Paul seemed like such a threat to him...to us. Especially since we'd recently committed ourselves to getting married - it didn't make sense to me." Kate looked at Francis and her grey-green eyes looked sad, "I have only felt jealousy once in my life...when meeting an ex-lover of Martin's and it is the most unpleasant and destructive emotion I have ever experienced. It almost destroyed our relationship and I didn't want Martin to let jealousy cast a shadow over our relationship by seeing Paul as a threat...because he is not."

Francis waited for her to continue.

"I heard from his Aunt Joan that Martin had a terrible childhood and I knew he had a certain level of insecurity - I have always tried to let him know that there is nothing he could do or say that would stop me loving him...and I really mean that. For a while things will be fine and then something like this happens and it's as if he forgets everything we have shared and all the ways I have tried to reassure him and he retreats to a place that I can't reach. It makes me feel helpless...it breaks my heart."

"How much has Martin himself told you about his upbringing?"

"Not much. There are certain things I pick up now and then from the things he says...or even from the things he doesn't say for that matter. Like for instance he won't talk about his parents at all...hasn't seen them in years...which for me is so strange. Then I met his mother just after his father died and I understood Martin's insecurity a little better. She is probably the coldest and most judgemental person I have ever had the misfortune to meet. We did not get on at all."

"If you had to pick one aspect of his insecurity that bothers you the most - what would it be?"

"I think the fact that he thinks he is undeserving of love - not for anything he has done or not done...but he believes he is inherently undeserving just because of who he is. And he is so very wrong."

"When you say he is wrong…?"

"He has so many good qualities...but it's not about that...Martin shouldn't have to be told that he is worthy because of his qualities. I wish he could see for himself that he doesn't have to earn worthiness...that he is already worthy." She paused and her face was soft and tinged with a deep sadness. "If worthiness had to be earned Martin would be streets ahead of most people I know. He is caring - he might not show it - but he is...and he is one of the most ethical and upstanding men I have ever met. He is truthful to a fault. His integrity is beyond reproach. He is just a good person to his core. He is gentle and loving and earnest in his desire to be a good partner...he tries so hard. And yet he still thinks that it will all disappear because he doesn't deserve to be happy. And I can't get him to see it...and by that I don't mean lecturing him...I mean by showing him. So..."

Her voice petered out and Francis could see that this saddened her.

"When Martin's aunt Joan told you that Martin had a difficult childhood - what exactly did she say?"

Kate leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That his parents couldn't wait to send him off to boarding school...he was only six years old for goodness sake." Her face showed her disapproval. "That he was bullied there because he didn't know how to interact with the other boys…that he was a sensitive boy but he seemed to shut down - implying that he exhibited little or no emotion after that."

Francis let the silence stretch between them then she put her notebook down on the little table. "I'm afraid the abuse Martin was subject to went a lot deeper than being sent to boarding school or even being bullied by other pupils."

Kate's eyes widened.

"Martin's sense of unworthiness is rooted in neglect. And by that I don't mean financial or environmental - his parents were wealthy, he went to good schools, he did not want for basic material things. His neglect was more emotional, intellectual and spiritual in nature and he was also starved of physical affection; starved of any recognition and denied normal interaction with adults who might have provided some affection in his young life. In a nutshell Martin was unloved."

Kate's eyes reflected her sadness and her heart felt heavy.

"Martin was also subject to physical abuse...locked in cupboards, on occasion physically beaten by both parents. At boarding school the abuse escalated because Martin had developed nocturnal enuresis - or bed-wetting. The humiliation and the subsequent bullying made him shrink into himself...it entrenched the notion that he was bad, that he always caused negative reactions in others - that he was unworthy...and it was all his fault."

Francis looked at Kate and she could see sadness and anger reflected in her face.

"From an early age Martin also learned that talking usually attracted unwanted attention - he was either ignored or verbally abused. He was banished from his parents' presence and later, at school, he was mocked or once again, ignored. So he learned that silence was beneficial. He developed the protective ability to withdraw 'into himself' as he calls it - to almost separate himself from potentially painful encounters. It's his defense mechanism. It's his safe place."

Kate's eyes were now brimming with tears. "Oh my God..."

Francis paused for a moment. "Now that you know how deep this feeling runs in Martin it will perhaps be easier for you to understand his reaction to painful or potentially painful situations. He runs to his safe place: to silence, withdrawal and sometimes defensive behaviour such as rudeness, making himself unapproachable…"

Kate got up and went to the bay window. "A little while ago, an ex lover of Martin's came to his rooms and tried to get him to resume their relationship - he'd refused but I didn't know that. I walked in when this woman was embracing him, trying to kiss him...all I saw was the two of them and I ran...I was devastated. But not as devastated as Martin. He came to me...to my flat...and he plucked up enough courage to tell me for the first time that he loved me...I know now just how hard that must have been for him." Tears spilled down Kate's cheeks. She took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at them. "I knew he was insecure and I tried to reassure him...I told him that I loved him...that I would never leave him...he seemed to need to know that...I just sensed it."

Francis waited a moment then asked, "Has Martin ever exhibited signs of being physically or emotionally abusive towards you or anyone else that you know of?"

Kate was shocked. "Never…" She shook her head emphatically, "No...never. He can be verbally scathing, yes, but behind it there is usually a good reason for his outburst...like when he confronts someone's incompetence or when a patient hasn't followed medical advice or something like that. Not that I condone his manner, mind...and I have told him that a number of times. But never physical abuse. I don't think Martin would be capable of inflicting physical violence on anyone...it goes against who he is."

Kate came to sit down again. "Now that we are getting married I thought Martin would relax and his insecurities would slowly abate...but they are always just under the surface and nothing I say or do seems to help."

Francis put her pen down. "That's not a hundred percent true Kate. Everything you say or do has an effect. Tell me about how you let him know that he is loved and by that I don't mean you have to give away any intimate secrets."

Kate grinned. "Umm...I don't really have to try - I always want to tell him how much I love him. I am also a physical person, I love to touch and hold and cuddle and he is slowly learning to relax with that. Once he does relax it is amazing how tender he is...how loving he is."

Francis smiled. "I have Martin's permission to speak openly with you on matters concerning him. He finds it difficult...humiliating to tell you things about his childhood. It will come...and when it does, don't try and explain or analyse things. Just listen and love him - it will go much further towards healing than anything else. Also remember that pity will do more harm than good even with the best intentions. Compassion however, is something different. There is a world of difference between pity and compassion." She looked at Kate whose eyes were brimming again. "I can tell that you feel compassion for Martin and that's a good thing - with compassion much can be done to instill a feeling of acceptance and trust in him because whatever you do will be rooted in love and not just feeling sorry for him. Martin would not handle that very well."

She looked at Kate with a direct and serious expression. "It will not be easy for you Kate. Martin needs constant reassurance from you. At every perceived crisis he will look for signs that you will reject him, that you have grown weary of him and while he is evaluating things he will withdraw to his safe place. It's while he is there that you have to be strong. It is going to be a long journey of showing him that your love for him is unconditional - that it does not depend on how good he is or on the things he does or does not do. It's about him - that it's just because he is who he is that you love him." Francis paused and smiled, "And I can tell that this part will not be hard for you...you already love him unconditionally don't you?"

"Yes...he is the most extraordinary man...when I am with him I feel the most incredible tenderness for him. He makes me feel content and...cherished and secure. And I want to see him happy. He says being with me makes him happy but I want him to be truly happy - the kind of happiness that's rooted in security - that he doesn't even need to think about what my reaction will be to any situation. That he will know that I won't leave him or find him wanting."

Francis leaned forward and picked up her notebook. "That will take a while Kate. It is so deeply seated in him...he believes everyone at one time or another will leave him. His parents didn't think he was worthy of being loved...so why should anyone else? Much as he would like to believe it, the voice of his parents is never far away - always criticising, banishing him, punishing him and withholding affection from him. He had to fend for himself from the time he realised what was happening - and Martin is exceptionally intelligent and perceptive. He knew from a very early age."

The tears spilled over again and Kate's heart broke for him. She remembered the day Martin had told her that he loved her and when she'd told him that she did too, he'd broken down. At the time she hadn't realised that it was because he was overwhelmed that, for the first time in his life, someone loved him; that someone actually wanted him...wanted to be with him. It had been nothing at all to do with the incident with Lara. She had vowed then to make him feel loved every day of his life - she had not reneged on that promise and she never would.

Francis leaned forward. "With all the best intentions in the world, Kate, this is not going to be easy for you. There are going to be times when you get frustrated at the perceived lack of trust in him. When he withdraws from you, ask him to tell you what's bothering him but if he doesn't want to, don't push him. It's not that he doesn't love you...it's about his perception of whether he is good enough for you that causes him to withdraw. Continue to show him love. With therapy we will work towards getting him to see that he can speak up without the fear of being rejected or abandoned. Eventually he will be able to automatically say what's on his mind. It will take time but it can be done."

Kate left shortly after and on the short taxi ride home she went over everything she and Francis had talked about. How was it possible for a man to be so loving and gentle when he'd been subjected to so much cruelty? She couldn't begin to imagine what it must have been like for him.

When the taxi stopped outside the townhouse she dashed up the stairs in the pelting rain and let herself in. The lights were on and she shed her outdoor jacket and hung it up in the hallway. Martin was in his study. He was sitting at his desk but there was no clock in front of him and no laptop open. He was just sitting there and when she came in he looked up slowly. There was apprehension written all over his face. Kate's heart melted. She stood in the doorway and smiled at him. "Hello gorgeous."

"Hello…" his voice was soft and his grey eyes vulnerable in the light from his desk lamp.

Kate came to him and slid onto his lap and wound her arms around his neck. "I missed you - I haven't seen you all day."

"Mmm...consultations and meetings."

Kate leaned forward and let her lips slowly touch his mouth, softly coaxing a response from him. Their kiss was gentle and tender.

When they parted Martin lifted his hand and brushed raindrops from her hair and she turned her mouth into his palm. "I'll warm up some soup for supper if you'd like that?"

"Mmm...yes."

Kate stood up and pulled him to his feet. She slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. It always felt so good when his arms went around her and she sighed deeply. "Are you wondering about Francis?"

She felt him go still for a second and then his hand stroked her back. "Mmm…"

"She's nice...we had a lovely chat." Kate pulled back to smile up at him. "I told her how much I adore you...what a sweet man you are...I'm a bit worried she thinks you're superman now."

His eyes crinkled a little and Kate knew he was smiling. He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. "Did she tell you...anything...umm…about..."

"Yes...she told me a little bit about boarding school." Kate was glad he couldn't see her face. If Margaret Ellingham were anywhere near she could happily have killed her. "If you'd been my little boy I wouldn't have let you go - I would have wanted to keep you all to myself." She lifted her head and looked into his open and questioning eyes. "It must have been very hard for you Martin."

"Mmm...yes." His eyes searched her face - looking for any signs of disgust or ridicule. He found none. He only saw the love in her eyes.

"If I had the power Martin, I would change all of that for you...I would make it all go away. But I can't." She reached up and stroked his face gently. "All I can do is tell you how much I love you...how much I adore you and respect you. You are an extraordinary man Martin...and I am so lucky to have found you."

Martin's eyes became moist and he pulled her close against his body. "I love you so much Kate."

"I love you too my darling man."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Once again the therapy sessions are based on my own interpretations and experiences, so if I have made any glaring procedural errors I apologise in advance.**

 **Your comments and reviews are very much appreciated - they are a great sounding board for what readers have found good or bad and any expectations they might have - so please keep them coming.**


	54. Chapter 54

The wind howled around the eaves of the solid old house on Roscarrock Hill. It blew rain against the seaward facing windows with such force that it sounded like hail. It even masked the sound of the sea crashing over the breakwater and surging up the cliff face near the harbour entrance. But inside the stone walls the house was a cosy and safe haven.

Kate cuddled up against Martin on the big sofa. He seemed relaxed with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his head resting on the cushioned backrest. A big fire crackled in the old hearth, casting a mellow, dancing glow in the otherwise dark sitting room. In the corner a Christmas tree twinkled with pretty lights and glittered with decorations that caught the light from the flickering fire.

The temperatures had plummeted, at times turning the rain to sleet and driving even the most hardy Portwenners under cover. Kate recalled many Christmas holidays spent indoors as a child because of inclement weather but she had never minded. She'd loved the cosiness of their home with its welcoming fireplace and the aroma of cooking and coffee. And there were always books or good films to watch on the television. Her parents had always been so settled, so comfortable with being in their own spaces and yet all three of them had felt connected by quiet companionship. There were meals together where the conversation could range from archaeology to the latest Lord of the Rings film; there were games of Scrabble, often made impossible to complete because of her mother's propensity for making up words and her father adding Shakespearean spelling into the mix. They'd end up laughing so hard and the board would often be full of ridiculous but creative words and the winner of the most ridiculous of them all would be excused from kitchen duties for a whole day.

Kate moved her head to look up at Martin. His face was relaxed and his eyes were closed but he stirred when she moved and his hand stroked her shoulder gently. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I never imagined that I would one day be sitting here like this with the man I'm going marry next to me." Kate ran a hand under his jacket and around his waist.

"Mmm...I was thinking the same thing."

"We've come such a long way from that first meeting in the scrub room, haven't we?"

"Mmm...yes." He paused and his hand trailed slowly down her arm to her waist. "I'm glad...glad we…umm"

"Found each other?"

"Yes."

Kate sat up and looked at him stretched out in front of the fire and knew that if they had been alone she would have initiated making love. Even though her mother had long since gone up to bed, she knew Martin would feel uncomfortable with any intimacy in what he would consider a public place. She smiled and tested her theory. She leaned in and put her lips to his and felt him stiffen. "Kate…"

"Shh...it's just a little kiss...mmm?"

He pulled away slightly with his eyebrow raised. "We both know where your little kisses lead…"

She grinned. "Yes I know. But I won't...I promise...well not here anyway." Kate looked at him with a mischievous smile on her face and Martin's mouth twitched at the corners as he pulled her close. Their kiss was light and filled with sweet tenderness and when they parted Kate settled back against his side and cuddled close.

She thought of how different Martin's life had been when he was growing up. There would have been no quiet, cosy winter nights like this in front of a fire, no-one to laugh with, no games, no-one to talk to about the things that children and teenagers needed to talk about. She rested her head on his chest and heard the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat. Kate could almost imagine Martin back then but she couldn't begin to imagine how he must have felt. If he'd had even one loving parent his life could have been so different. But she didn't want to dwell on that. They'd already formed a close companionship and they would create a life together and have the same loving home environment she'd enjoyed as a child and, one day when they had children of their own, they would enfold them into that safe and settled circle.

She thought of what it would be like to carry Martin's child. The idea made her tingle with love and, for want of a better word, of purpose, as if having his child was something she was meant to do. It filled her with a deep, molten tenderness and a need to feel close to him, to feel his protection and his love. She supposed it was a primal thing, something that ensured that the human race would find a way of continuing and, she also supposed, that when one distilled it down to its essence, that's what it was all about. But the love and tenderness they felt for one another made nonsense of that. It was so much more than a primal urge.

That afternoon they'd had four and a half hours together as they'd driven down from London to Portwenn. They'd decided to drive instead of taking the train as Martin had wanted to give the Lexus a good run and they had far too many packages and bags to take on the train. Well she'd had too many anyway. She'd enjoyed every moment of the trip - just being with him, chatting easily and listening to music. The journey had seemed to fly by and they had arrived in Portwenn in the late afternoon.

Evelyn had greeted them both with a big hug, much to Martin's embarrassment but he'd briefly put his arm around her shoulder and patted her back awkwardly before stepping back and a little closer to Kate. Supper had been hearty thick beef and vegetable soup with homemade bread. Evelyn had recently invested in an electric breadmaker and it had turned out very nicely indeed. Martin frowned at both women at the dinner table when they liberally smeared butter on the hot bread. He stared pointedly at Kate's slice and she raised her eyebrows and took a bite, almost daring him to say something. She saw his mouth twitch and he wisely turned his attention to his bowl of soup and slice of unbuttered bread.

They'd sat for a while after they'd finished eating and talked about all sorts of things. But when conversation got round to the wedding and how many vases of flowers were needed for each table at the reception, Martin got up and started clearing away the dishes. Evelyn would have none of it though and he was quickly shoo-ed from the kitchen, "There is hardly anything to do Martin so please go and put your feet up in front of the fire. You too Catherine. The two of you must be a little tired after the long drive."

It had just gone nine when Evelyn excused herself and said she was going up to bed. She said she was a little tired and Martin had looked keenly at her. She didn't appear to be ill so he let it go. Shortly after they heard her bedroom door closing and the house settled into its cosy silence.

Now with the fire starting to burn down, Martin looked down to where Kate's head rested on his shoulder. He could hardly believe how much his life had changed in the last year. Here he was in Portwenn, at Christmas-time, in this house, in front of a fire with the most beautiful, loving woman cuddled next to him and the expectation of five days in her company without the pressures of having to work. The previous Christmas he had been on call at St Mary's wondering what she was doing, knowing that she was down in Cornwall. He'd realised for the first time, as he'd sat alone in his consulting room, that he missed her; missed seeing her warm smile. He kissed the top of Kate's head and rubbed her arm gently.

"What time do we have to be in Altarnun in the morning?"

"At ten. But it's only about half an hour away - if we leave just after nine it will give us plenty of time."

Martin looked on the forthcoming meeting with the Reverend Thomas Gray with mixed feelings. He wasn't a religious man but he had an appreciation for the ritual and tradition of English liturgical occasions. The few clergymen he had interacted with throughout his life had not endeared him to the church in any way. The ones at school seemed to him to be unapproachable and aloof; certainly not the shepherds of mercy and love that the Bible said they ought to be. But on his own, when he occasionally read from the King James Bible or listened to music composed especially for the church, it held a poetic and, dare he say, a spiritual wonder for him. There was something about a choir singing in a 900 year old minster with its magnificent architecture and vast acoustic that made it an inspiring and moving experience. The fact that Kate wanted a traditional church wedding didn't faze him in the least. He just hoped that Gray wasn't the snobbish, entitled sort he had come to know, or worse, the sort that forced doctrine into every conversation.

The fire had burned low and Kate stirred next to him and ran a hand over his thigh. "Do you want to go up now?"

"Mmm...yes..."

After locking up and making sure that fire was safe to be left unattended, Kate finally closed the door to her bedroom and turned to Martin who stood uncertainly in the middle of the room. He looked around, taking in the feminine décor and the remnants of her life as a young girl. A teddy bear sat comfortably on a chair in the corner and there were various dolls that had survived her frenzy of chucking things out when she had finally left home. There were a few photos in frames on a chest of drawers - Kate in her graduation gown with her big, happy smile standing between her proud parents. Martin picked up the photo. Edward Rushton was a handsome man. He could see the happy smile on his face as he stood with his arm around his daughter. Kate hadn't changed at all since that was taken, must be ten years ago he thought. He turned and looked around the room trying to imagine her here when she was growing up. It was a big room with a window that looked out over the village and down to the harbour. He could hear the wind and rain beating against it but the room was cosy, made so by the central heating radiators. Kate pointed to the bathroom. "Do you want to go first while I get my things ready?"

Martin took her hand and pulled her close and let his hands slide down her back to rest on her hips. His eyes searched hers and the tenderness he found there was like sustenance to him. He never grew tired of seeing it. He bent his head and gently touched her lips with his and felt her respond and their kiss was soft and gentle. He found that these feather light kisses, which were not sexual in tone, were often powerfully laden with something he couldn't define - love definitely but also closeness and fulfilment and belonging.

Later as they lay together listening to the wind and rain battering fiercely against the window and savouring the feeling of each other's bodies closely entwined, Martin felt a surge of emotion and felt his eyes prick and he blinked in the darkness. What was this all about? He should be happy not brimming with tears. He lifted his free hand and rubbed it over his face. Kate stirred. "G'night my darling man...love you…" she murmured in her half sleep.

"Goodnight, my beautiful Kate," he whispered and he closed his eyes but a little smile remained on his lips until he drifted off into a contented sleep.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	55. Chapter 55

The rain had eased by the time they all set off for Altarnun the next morning. Evelyn had come along so that she could catch up with Abby over a cup of tea. Thomas and Abigail Gray had moved to the area when the Rushtons had been living in Portwenn for about five years and they had become firm family friends. They had been a comforting support for Evelyn and Kate when Edward had died and they were dearly loved by both.

The drive along the puddle soaked lanes proved a little difficult for Martin who was not used to such narrow and winding roads but as always he appeared to be in control. They arrived safely at the vicarage near to St Nonna's church at ten minutes to ten and got out of the car next to the river. It was rushing in full spate under the stone footbridge opposite the church gates. The sky was almost clear but Kate knew that at this time of year it wouldn't stay like that for long. Dark clouds were already banked up towards the coast. She threaded her fingers through Martin's as they peered over the old stone wall of the bridge and watched Penpont Water tumbling by on its noisy, gurgling path to the sea. It was such a soothing and refreshing sound and blended perfectly with the happy sound of birdsong. The rain had released a rich earthy smell and the trees, most of which were leafless and stark against the patchy winter sky, dripped and glittered in the morning sunshine. Refreshing and brisk were words that came to Kate's mind.

She looked up at Martin as he stared down at the noisy tea-coloured water tumbling over rocks in the riverbed. He looked so handsome and smart in his dark blue cashmere overcoat and she tucked her arm through his as they turned and made their way toward the vicarage.

Before they could knock the door opened to reveal a slender, grey-haired woman whose face beamed with happiness as she observed Evelyn and Kate on the doorstep. "Oh it's so lovely to see you both...Kate it's been a while now." Her arms stretched out and enfolded Kate and then Evelyn in a hug and then her blue eyes looked up at Martin who was immensely relieved when she held out her hand. "Hello...you must be Martin. I'm Abby Gray." They shook hands and Martin murmured, "How do you do," and his eyes stared directly into hers.

"Please come in, Tom is just on a call - he'll be with us in a minute."

She showed them through to the sitting-room where a fire crackled softly. Martin unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off and Abby held out her hand for it. "Let me hang that up for you Martin." She took in the smart, bespoke dark blue gabardine suit and light blue shirt with just a flash of a cuff link at his wrist. His posture was straight and his expression stern. He had not smiled once but she didn't get the impression that he was sullen or sulky, rather that he was just quiet. Evelyn had told them that he was an eminent surgeon and that he wasn't prone to small-talk so she wasn't in the least surprised but Evelyn hadn't mentioned his piercing grey eyes or his unnerving gaze. That would take a bit of getting used to.

Just then Thomas Gray entered the room and his face broke into a smile when he saw Kate and Evelyn. He hugged them both in turn then turned to Martin and held out his hand. "Tom Gray."

Martin shook his hand, his other hand behind his back, "Martin Ellingham," then cleared his throat softly. Tom and Martin were the same height but that was where the physical similarity ended. Tom could be described as burly which belied his quiet, scholarly manner. His bearing was as upright as Martin's and he spoke with the same public school accent and exhibited the same easy, gentlemanly manners. His thick hair was almost completely grey but he wore it longer and it looked like a strong wind had contributed to its tousled style. He wore black corduroy trousers and the habitual black shirt and dog collar, covered by a thick dark grey jumper. He looked every inch the country vicar.

The ladies soon disappeared into the kitchen to make tea, leaving Martin and Tom in front of the fireplace. Martin stood with his hands behind his back staring down into the flames.

"Evelyn mentioned that you are a surgeon Martin...what is your specialty?"

"Vascular specialist. St Mary's."

"Any relation to Christopher Ellingham?"

Martin was not quick enough to hide his expression. "My father," he said and his tone was curt.

"Ahh…" he said. "We were at the same school - although he was in sixth form when I started so we never mingled." His smile was wry.

When Tom noticed Martin's frown he prudently turned the conversation to other things and before long Abby came in carrying a tray of tea followed by Kate and Evelyn each carrying plates of small eats.

They drank tea and the conversation was easy and filled with laughter except for Martin who sat quietly observing the group. Eventually Tom stood up and suggested that Martin accompany him to his study. Tom led the way down the passage and closed the door behind them. The room was book-lined and had a lived in, cluttered but warm feel to it.

"Please sit."

They sat in a comfortable sitting area of the room and Tom got straight to it.

"I was delighted when Abby told me that Kate was to be married. Abby and I have been friends of the Rushtons since Kate was a little girl. She and our youngest daughter Diana are still quite close - although Diana now lives in Canada so they don't see each other all that often anymore. But thankfully Skype has made the world smaller, hasn't it? Edward used to tutor via Skype you know...who would have thought?"

Martin nodded, he had also, on occasion, set up tutorials for small groups via Skype, so he was familiar with its convenience.

Tom settled back in his chair and gave Martin a questioning look. "Usually at this point I ask the prospective bridegroom a few questions about themselves and their views on life...their values...about love and family and so forth...but I am going to start by saying that I know Kate as if she were my own daughter. She spent a lot of time in our home and our daughter Diana in hers...so I know what her outlook on life is...her values...her potential. My question to you is...how have you come to know her over...what is it now...a year?"

Martin looked at Tom in the easy chair across from him. His gaze was direct and it was a moment before he answered. "There are still things I don't know about Kate...or she about me. But I do know that she is one of the most principled people I know. She is forthright and her values are grounded in compassion and empathy. With me...she is loving and...tolerant." He paused and coughed softly, "I am not the easiest of men to get along with...I am not a talker or sociable nor am I what people would call...fun...but Kate has never minded...that side of me." He shifted in his chair and looked towards the window through which the weak winter sunlight shone. "Kate is caring and affectionate and strong. Being with her is...the best thing that's ever happened to me." Martin stopped. He doubted that Tom Gray would ever know just how much he meant that; that it wasn't just a cliché.

"You two have very different personalities - Kate is very outgoing and you strike me as one who prefers being out of the spotlight. Do you think this a problem?"

Martin frowned. "No...Kate doesn't expect me to be the...err...life of the party...she knows I don't speak unless I have to…but I love to watch her with people...she is animated and she laughs...a lot…" His mouth twitched slightly. "No it isn't a problem...for me at least."

Tom nodded. "I don't have to ask whether you are capable of setting up a stable home together...financially speaking that is, but what of where you will stay...are you both in agreement about that? Many couples are at odds about that, strangely enough, and it becomes an issue very soon into a marriage. You live in London but at heart Kate is a Cornish girl...used to a slightly quieter lifestyle."

Martin frowned deeply. He'd never thought of that because it had never come up. Kate had never said she disliked London or that she hankered for the quiet life in Portwenn but she did like to visit regularly. Eventually he shook his head. "We both like our jobs and where we live. Of course if Kate wanted a different house after we are married that would be fine. She likes to travel and so do I, so that gives us a break from London from time to time."

The conversation covered various topics of a practical nature and then Tom asked a question Martin thought would eventually come up.

"Doctors in general are not usually religious by nature. They see the very worst of human suffering and are often powerless to prevent or cure ailments and that makes them question the whole existence of a benign and loving God. Are you any different?"

Martin stared at him as he evaluated the statement. "No I'm not. Science explains and supports our everyday experiences...so there is little room for religious...umm...sentiment."

Tom nodded. It wasn't surprising. He had often come across this, and not only in the medical profession. But it didn't mean that they were spiritually unaware. They talked around this for a moment then Tom asked, "How do you see your role as Kate's partner?"

Martin frowned. He'd never thought of the relationship as having roles. They were together, they loved one another, they didn't have specific roles. Did they? He raised an eyebrow. "Roles?"

"Yes...do you see yourself as breadwinner...head of the household...or Kate as a homemaker...that sort of thing, or is there more of a shared and equal partnership?"

Without hesitation Martin said, "Neither of us has a dominant role when it comes to the things you mention, if that's what you are asking. Kate and I discuss things and make decisions together. She likes her independence...she is outspoken about her wishes...about her wants...but they are never selfish. She has an opinion...and I like that."

"And you...are you as forthcoming with your needs and wants?"

He hesitated. "Umm...if need be…mine are not complicated." He couldn't say that his needs and desires were all centred around Kate. She was central to everything that had become important to him.

"I detected a slight hesitation Martin. Do you find it difficult to express yourself to her...especially when it comes to problems?"

"I...uh...yes sometimes...when it comes to...umm…" he frowned.

"When it comes to feelings." Tom finished for him and smiled knowingly. "How does Kate handle that?"

"We are...I am learning to be more...umm...vocal...and she understands." He wasn't about to tell Tom about being in therapy or about his miserable childhood so he hoped the man would not probe too much.

"You have both come to this relationship as mature individuals so I would think that starting a family might happen quite soon...if you wanted a family that is. What are your views on that...becoming a father one day? Do you want to have children Martin?"

Martin's eyes narrowed. He remembered when he and Kate had made unprotected love in Paris. If she had fallen pregnant he would not have batted an eyelid. He would have gone along with whatever she decided to do but he remembered feeling apprehensive about what kind of father he would make and it wasn't unfounded. If he exhibited any of the traits of his parents the child would be doomed. As it is he was too stiff and formal. He wasn't naturally affectionate to anyone but Kate. He wasn't going to be the type of father who would play sport and go camping or even go to the cinema with a child...in short, he wasn't the stuff good fathers are made of. If he had a choice he wouldn't become a parent so that he couldn't inflict a miserable childhood on any offspring of his. He eventually looked Tom in the eye.

"I don't think I would make a particularly good parent. I am too...unapproachable and umm...I think I might be too strict and prescriptive."

Tom nodded. "I had the same fears when Abby and I got married. She wanted to have children straight away but I procrastinated because I didn't feel confident. I was worried I would be a bad influence with my withdrawn and sometimes reclusive tendencies. If it wasn't for Abby...things might have been very different." He smiled, "You might wonder how I managed to choose a profession that centres so much around people. It's easier than one thinks because it deals with the well-being of individuals in need. You, I suspect are the same - you hold yourself apart from people on one level but you also spend your days helping individuals in need." He paused and waited for Martin to respond and when he didn't he went on, "If Kate wanted children, what would your answer be? Have you ever spoken about it?"

Martin shook his head. "It's never come up in any detail. I know she loves children and I can't imagine her not wanting them...she would make a lovely mother."

Tom leaned back in his chair. This was potentially a deal breaker as far as relationships went and couldn't be underestimated. "And if she wanted to be a mother?" he asked softly.

"I don't know." Martin's answer was clipped and slightly irritated and he got up and walked to the window that looked out onto the road and the river running next to it. "My childhood wasn't exactly the idyllic sort. What if I turn out to be like my parents?"

Tom recognised the fear in Martin's words. "If that is a concern, don't you think that your past experiences might moderate your behaviour and that together with Kate's influence you could be a fine parent?"

Martin thought about that for a moment. He wasn't convinced but it was clear that he and Kate would have to talk about this before the wedding. He had to voice his fears to her. It wouldn't be fair to only bring it up once they were married. He turned back to Tom. "I am not so sure about that but it is something we should have talked about before. I don't know why we haven't."

Tom let it go and turned his attention to other things. He would talk to Kate separately and then have them in together so that they could discuss the order of service, hymns, choir and so forth.

While Kate chatted to Tom, Martin excused himself and took a walk through the graveyard and up to the church. It was a fine old building with its square tower pointing to the now grey sky. He thought about what Tom had said. Would any flaws in his parenting be tempered by Kate's natural calm and sunny disposition? There were no guarantees. He could be scathing and critical. He could be harsh and uncompromising. In short he could be unpleasant and unapproachable. How would a child feel around him? Unsure and scared is how they'd feel, he thought. That's how he'd felt around his parents. He sighed deeply and slowly made his way between the old headstones covered in lichen, each one reminding him of a life once lived, some of them painfully short - the only clue that they'd ever existed being a lopsided stone marker in the dewy green grass of a country churchyard. It was a sad but curiously calming place. He looked up at the church which for over five hundred years had served the communities around it. In a month's time he would marry Kate within its ancient walls; the thought made his heart race with anticipation. Soon the wait would be over. He turned and slowly made his way back to the warmth of the vicarage and to Kate.

A little while later he and Kate sat together with Tom to discuss the order of the marriage service. He was mostly silent, having no objection to anything she wanted to do on the day. Kate would let Tom know which hymns they wanted so that the organist and choir could practice beforehand. They discussed the vows, which more often these days, Tom said, were being modernised and made more personal. He would of course have to see them beforehand if they wanted to deviate from the established Anglican format. Kate looked at Martin and he raised his eyebrow as if to say 'whatever you wish."

She looked at Tom. "My choice would be to stick to the traditional vows but if Martin feels differently…?"

"No...traditional is fine." Martin's tone was abrupt - he was starting to feel a little boxed in and Tom picked up on it immediately.

"Right...well I think we have covered everything. I looked forward to the occasion. Not too long now."

Martin was looking at Kate. He was thinking that it was still far too long. If he knew she would agree he would have asked Tom to marry them then and there. He just wanted it to be over and to know they were husband and wife. It was so important to him.

Tom watched the emotions playing on Martin's face. He was so in love with Kate, there was no doubt in his mind at all and he hoped that the issue about parenthood could be quickly and amicably resolved.

It started to rain just as they left Altarnun and by the time they got back to the house in Portwenn it was coming down in perpendicular sheets. Lightning flashed over the ocean and Kate held on to Martin's arm as they dashed indoors.

They had lunch together around the kitchen table. All through the meal Martin was silent, even more so than usual. Evelyn looked at him from time to time. He didn't strike her as a moody person so she deduced there must be something on his mind. She kept the conversation on lighter things, mentioning that the Three Musketeers and their partners were going to be staying close by at the Old Schoolhouse hotel for the wedding. And Kate said Simon Holden had also confirmed his attendance and had indicated that he would also be staying there.

Later that evening as Martin and Kate once again sat in front of a cosy fire, alone and relaxed, he suddenly sat up straight and gently pulled Kate upright so that they were facing one another. She looked at him curiously.

"Kate...when we were at the vicarage today...umm...Tom asked me how I felt about having children…" Kate smiled and waited for him to continue. "Umm...the truth is...I don't think I would make a good father...and I think maybe...I shouldn't...be a father." His voice petered out.

Kate was silent for a long moment and her expression was a bit stunned. "Are you saying that you don't want to have children at all?"

He took her hands in his. "Umm...yes...I suppose I am…" Anxiety rose in him as he watched Kate's face in the flickering light of the fire.

She sat back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stared into the fire without speaking for so long that Martin grew even more worried. "Kate?"

Her voice was low and unsure, as if she was in shock. "Martin...I'm...I'm uh...trying to grasp what you have just said. It's a bit of a shock."

"I know...and I'm sorry…"

"Are you not just nervous about having children? That's not the same as not wanting children at all. Everyone is nervous about becoming a parent. It's unknown territory for everyone."

He shook his head slowly. "No Kate...there are some people who should never have children...and I am one of them."

Kate was stunned. She looked at Martin's face etched and sombre in the flickering light of the fire. She couldn't accept that he had come to that conclusion. She just couldn't.

"Why do you say that you won't make a good father Martin? You can't know that. In fact I think the total opposite. I know how loving you are. I know how tender and gentle and single minded you are with me - because you love me. If we had a baby together I just know you will have the capacity to love that child just the same...I just know it..." her voice was hardly a whisper.

Martin stared at her as he tried to evaluate what she'd said. But all he saw in his head were the faces of his parents when they'd looked at him with such irritation and disgust and he heard their voices echoing in his mind, dripping with criticism and ridicule and he knew he would rather not be a father than run the risk of letting a child of his see or hear even a hint of that in him. He remembered how sensitive he'd been to every look, to every nuance when they were with him...and even when they were not. He still looked for it everywhere. It had made him afraid and had robbed him of his confidence - it had changed who he was and turned him into the insecure and damaged person he was today. And he didn't want that - not for a child and not for Kate who would have to witness a side of him that she would come to hate.

"I don't know if I am able to love anyone but you Kate. I really don't. When I look at children I want to get as far away from them as possible...even Dan...Chris and Helen Parsons' boy. I don't want to touch or hold...I don't want anything to do with them. They make me feel agitated. How is that going to work if we have a child? How will you feel if I don't want to touch it or hold it?" His face looked so miserable.

"Martin just about everyone I know who have had their own children have voiced the same sentiments about other people's children. My friends Becky and Steve swore they wanted to remain childless because they couldn't stand watching couples with messy, screaming babies - in their words kids were totally disgusting. But Becky fell pregnant anyway and now you would think they were the only couple on the planet that's ever had a baby...they are such devoted and loving parents." She looked intently at Martin whose face was shadowed in the dying firelight. "What I am trying to say is that things are so different when you are holding your own child...so very different. I have seen it over and over."

Martin shifted uncomfortably. He shook his head. "It's not the same. Your friends don't have the same...issues. They didn't have the same childhood that I had. They don't have to worry that they will be like their parents...cold and distant and...cruel."

Kate took his hand and rubbed the back of it gently. "You are nothing like your parents Martin... _nothing_!"

She heard him give a soft grunt of derision.

"You're _not_ Martin. When you hold me and tell me you love me, do I see anything of your parents in you? No I don't...I see the most loving and gentle man who makes me feel wanted and secure."

He lowered his head and shook it slowly. "Becoming a parent scares me...I'm no good with showing...love. I'd rather not bring a child into the world who would have to wonder why their father was so distant and cold...so incapable of being like other fathers."

Kate squeezed his hand. "Martin...that is not how you are. You could no more be distant and cold with anyone you love than I could. Don't deny yourself the wonder of being a parent because of how your parents were with you." She dipped her head to try and catch his eye but he didn't move.

Martin sighed inwardly. He couldn't get it through to Kate. She wanted so much for it to be different that she couldn't see how real his concerns were so he did the only thing he knew how in order to cope with the situation: he became quiet and Kate recognised his withdrawal. The tension grew between them in the silence that ensued and eventually they went upstairs.

Later as they lay in bed in the dark, not touching, he on his back with his hands folded on his chest, she lying on her side with her back to him, it felt like the silence was a living thing. It hummed with anxious energy. He heard her reach for something on the bedside pedestal and he turned his head to look at her. She was holding a tissue. He turned and spooned behind her and wound his arm around her waist. She didn't resist but he felt the tension in her body and his heart felt heavy because he was the cause of her sadness.

"Kate?" He lifted his hand and brushed at her cheek and he felt the wetness there and he lowered his head and put his lips to her cheek. "I'm sorry…"

He felt a sob convulse her body and he turned her so that he could take her in his arms. He hated being the cause of her unhappiness but he couldn't keep his concerns from her either. It wouldn't be fair.

She cried quietly into his chest and he felt tears sting his own eyes for the grief he had caused. He stroked her hair and held her close and when the storm of tears had passed she eventually turned away again and lay quite still, so still he couldn't tell if she was asleep or pretending to be. After a while he fell into a fitful sleep and woke some time later to find the space beside him empty.

He sat up, fear sending the blood pounding through his veins. He looked at his watch on the bedside pedestal. 4.40 am. He got up and put on his dressing gown and went downstairs. Kate was sitting on the padded window seat in the sitting room looking out at the rain blurred road and the harbour beyond. Lightning still lit up the inky sky from time to time and illuminated her hunched form where she sat hugging her knees with her hair trailing over her shoulders.

"Kate?" His voice was soft and velvety and filled with concern.

She turned and he saw her face in the pale light from the window, tear-stained and so very sad. He went to her and sat on the edge of the seat and took her hands in his. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks. He put his hand up and his fingers gently brushed them away. "Oh Kate...I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "I love you so much Martin...I just always imagined we would have a child together. I didn't think...I never thought you wouldn't want to...or that you felt so strongly about it. I know that was presumptive of me but..." She put a hand up and dashed the tears away again. "But I feel so strongly about it too…" A sob escaped her lips. "I want to carry your child...our child." She looked up at him with her eyes brimming. "What are we going to do?"

Martin's heart felt like it was shattering. If she felt so strongly about having children and he gave in and it was a disaster, he would never forgive himself. He looked down at her with that open and childlike frankness. Should he compromise...to make her happy? He had to think. He wanted more than anything to make Kate happy. But either way he was damned. If he said yes and they had a child and he was an awful father she would despise him. And if he said he wouldn't have a child she would be unhappy and probably end up despising him anyway. He was confused and unhappy and he needed to feel her comfort. He reached for her and held her close against his chest and buried his face in her neck. "Please let me think about this Kate. Please give me a little time...I will understand if you want to call off the wedding...I won't…"

Kate pulled his head up so she could look in his eyes. "I will _not_ call off the wedding Martin Ellingham. I love you and I want to be with you. I can't deny that I will be terribly unhappy if we don't have children...because I will be...I will feel empty...but I will never stop loving you."

Martin felt his eyes sting again and she drew him close and they held each other until the cold made them head upstairs to the warmth of their bed and they lay close together with their thoughts until it was time to get up.

Evelyn immediately picked up that her daughter had been crying and she looked surreptitiously from her to Martin and noted the sombre expression on his face. They were quiet at breakfast and shortly after they'd cleared the table Kate said she was heading over to a friend in the village who'd offered to help with the reception. Evelyn watched Martin's eyes follow her as if she might be leaving forever. Something was amiss and she hoped one of them would talk about it. Perhaps she could help; perhaps not but in her experience talking about it to someone who cared always helped.

Martin excused himself and sat in the sitting room with one of his medical journals and Evelyn went to her study to do some work. At about ten thirty she came through and asked if he wanted tea and he said yes and followed her through to the kitchen. As Evelyn busied herself with the kettle she said without turning, "I couldn't help but notice that something is a little off between you and Kate...am I wrong?"

Martin gave a little cough, "Err...no."

Evelyn took some cups from the cupboard above the countertop. "Do you want to talk about it?" She turned as she put the cups on the kitchen table and looked up at him. His face was almost impassive but his eyes gave him away. There was sadness and worry there.

"Not really...no." He didn't feel he could tell Evelyn without speaking to Kate about it first. But when he looked at her, he was surprised to find that he actually wanted to speak to her - to pour out his fears about being a father. He gave himself a mental shake.

She nodded and smiled. "Alright. But I am a good listener should you wish to change your mind."

Just then the kitchen door opened and Kate came in followed by a blast of icy air. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and she looked pinched. She pulled the beanie from her head and unwound her scarf, all the while looking at Martin who sat rigid in his seat at the table with his eyes locked on her. She gave a little smile and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "It's so cold out there. I wouldn't be surprised if we have a spot of snow before long."

Martin felt relief at her display of affection and he wanted to respond but Evelyn's presence kept him in his chair, instead his eyes followed her every movement as if by doing so she would feel his love and his need of her.

They sat and had tea together and Kate and Evelyn talked about her friend Cassie's plans for the reception and they talked about the Christmas lunch preparations for the next day. Martin listened with only half an ear, his eyes riveted on Kate. Aunty Joan would be joining them. He hoped that he and Kate would be able to conceal the tension between them because his aunt would pick up that something was amiss and, unlike Evelyn, she was not one to hold her tongue. She would demand to know what was going on. He groaned inwardly.

When the rain cleared later that afternoon Kate asked Martin if he wanted to go for a walk. They walked up the cliff path keeping a wary eye on the purply black clouds hanging low over the sea. The air was so cold it made their eyes water but it was wonderful to be out in the fresh air.

When they reached the look-out bench Martin took her hand and pulled her into his arms and she rested her cheek against his chest. He stroked her back and bent his head to rest his cheek against hers. "I love you Kate...and I want you to be happy. When we get back to London I will talk to Francis about...this...fear of mine. It might sound irrational but I really don't want our child to feel the way I did...I couldn't bear it. But I will try...I will speak to Francis."

Kate looked up at him and her eyes brimmed with tears again and he gently brushed them away. She smiled at him and pulled his head down and they kissed slowly, deeply, gently until her legs felt weak and her heart was overflowing with love. Whatever the outcome, that was something that would never change. She couldn't imagine a life without Martin even if things didn't work out the way she wanted. She just hoped that Francis could guide him through this and help him see his potential as a parent. At least he hadn't closed himself off to it and that was encouraging.

They eventually started a slow walk back to Roscarrock Hill and felt the first fat drops of rain on their faces as they neared the house. Martin looked down at Kate and felt her warm hand in his. He marvelled that she still loved him despite his somewhat selfish fears and he hoped Francis had some answers for him. Or rather that she could help him find answers for himself. He wanted that more than anything.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks for all your encouraging PMs and comments - as usual they are very much appreciated. Please keep them coming.**

 **I have never been to Altarnun so any errors in my description are my own imagination running away with me. Thank goodness though for Google Earth and Street View, as well as the ability to experience places vicariously through the cameras of other travellers. I will be going to Port Isaac next year and plan to visit this beautiful village and its special church. I will then be able to see if my description hit the mark or not :)**


	56. Chapter 56

It was still dark when Kate got up on Christmas morning. On her way back from the bathroom she looked out of the window to see that during the night there had been a light dusting of snow which made the village look like a picture postcard. Every roof was powdered white and the yellow glow from street lamps reflected off drifts that had formed in the narrow lanes. It looked cold and grey outside but in the house the heating kept everything at a cosy temperature.

It was still very early so Kate slid back into bed and pulled the duvet up under her chin. In the dimness of the room she lay on her side and looked at Martin lying next to her still fast asleep. He was on his back as usual, his head slightly to one side. His face looked relaxed but she knew that the minute he woke up the tension would be back again. He'd been reluctant to touch her - probably afraid that she would reject his advances. She wouldn't have rejected him if he'd wanted to make love but she also didn't initiate it as she might have done if things hadn't become so strained between them. Neither of them wanted to pretend that the issue they were faced with wasn't serious. If they couldn't find a way of dealing with it, it would always be the elephant in the room.

It had never crossed her mind that there would be no children in her life. It just hadn't been an option. In her mind she'd always dreamt of the perfect life: she would meet someone who would sweep her off her feet, they would marry, have babies, grow old together...the fairy tale happily ever after. Now it seemed likely that one big part of that idyllic life was about to be ripped out. Could there ever truly be a happy-ever-after for her without having children? All she knew was that she would have to find a way of getting over it if she wanted to stay with Martin. Unless he changed his mind.

She felt tears sting her eyes again and took a deep breath. She was well aware that her body clock was ticking. She was thirty four and already approaching the age that doctors considered a risk for pregnancy. Ideally they should start trying for a baby soon after they were married but…

She looked at Martin's profile. In a million years she couldn't see him being like his parents. Martin was the most loving and tender man towards her. With others he still showed his stern, unapproachable façade. He was still abrupt and, on occasion, rude and his comments could be cutting but she knew that it was the armour he put on every day to ward people off. She hoped that Francis would be able to make him see that he was incapable of being cold towards someone he loved. She just knew Martin would be a good father - she just knew it deep down. But there was very little she could do to make him see that right now. She wished with all her heart that she could. Just as she wished that the tension between them didn't exist.

When Kate heard her mother moving about, she got up and slipped into her dressing gown. Martin still slept and she resisted the urge to kiss his brow. Whatever happened, she still loved him with all her heart.

In the kitchen her mother was making a cup of coffee as she entered. "Morning darling," she said as she pressed the button on the machine and it hummed softly.

Kate went to her and gave her a hug. "Happy Christmas Mum."

Evelyn hugged her back. She could tell that Kate hadn't slept well. There were dark smudges under her eyes and her smile was a tad less bright than it usually was. As Kate placed her own cup under the nozzle of the coffee machine and watched its rich creamy brown liquid pouring into it her mother asked, "Do you want to talk about it Kate?"

Kate pulled a chair out and sat down at the kitchen table. "Oh Mum…" Tears threatened again and she sipped her coffee before answering. "When Martin spoke to Tom yesterday, the subject of having children came up and...later Martin told me that he didn't want to have children. He didn't want to run the risk of being like his parents. In his words - he didn't want to be cold and unaffectionate with a child...so he'd rather not have any."

Kate looked so miserable and Evelyn put her hand out and covered hers where it lay on the table. This was not something that could be resolved by making compromises like whose job it was to put the rubbish out or fetch the dry cleaning. This was something that would affect their lives forever and both partners would have to be in agreement. It was true that not everyone wanted to have children, but Kate was not one of them. Kate had always had a natural gravitation towards children. She loved to be around them and she engaged with them so spontaneously. It must have been a tremendous blow to her when Martin had told her how he felt. Could their relationship survive it?

"Is Martin willing to even talk about it?"

"At first he was adamant that he wouldn't change his mind but when he saw how upset I was he said he would talk to Francis about it…" Kate suddenly realised that her mother didn't know who Francis was. She felt a little uncomfortable in revealing that Martin was undergoing therapy but also knew her mother wasn't the kind of person who would ever tell anyone else. Without going into detail Kate explained who Francis was and why Martin was seeing her.

Evelyn nodded. From what she understood, Martin's childhood experiences had left deep scars. The fact that he had found someone like Kate who was warm and loving by nature had been a small miracle in his life and it was possible that with therapy, he could overcome his insecurities. The motivating factor was his love for Kate. There was no doubt that he loved her deeply and that would be his saving grace. But Kate would have to make a terrible choice if Martin refused to change his mind. She wished more than anything that she could help but this was something only they could work through.

Later, after they were all up and dressed, Kate and Evelyn chatted amiably in the kitchen as they prepared the lunch and soon mouth watering aromas began to waft through the house. Throughout the morning visitors came to wish the Rushtons. Martin thought it prudent to remain in the sitting room where he tended to the fire and sat with the latest copy of the Lancet. At about 10.30 they all had tea together. Evelyn looked at the two of them. Martin still looked a bit sombre and his eyes constantly strayed to Kate as if he was trying to reassure himself that she wouldn't suddenly disappear.

At around eleven thirty Aunty Joan arrived and enveloped Kate and then Martin in a hug that seemed to Martin as if it would never end. Her eyes were moist as she looked up at him and pinched his cheek as if he were nine years old again. "I am so proud of you Marty. Getting married at last. About time I say."

Martin felt his face warming and tugged at his ear. "Yes…" He listened as the three women chattered and bustled about in the kitchen and quickly escaped back to the sitting room. Kate came through a little later to tell him that lunch was almost ready.

"Can I help with anything?"

She shook her head. "It seems to be under control." She went to him and slipped her arms around his waist. "Happy Christmas my darling man."

Martin's hand came up to brush her cheek and gently touch the smudges under her eyes and he swallowed hard. It was a relief to hear her call him that. His voice was soft and deep, "Happy Christmas…" and he bent his head and they shared feather light kisses until they heard Aunty Joan's voice approaching.

Martin helped to carry dishes through to the little dining room. The lunch table had been beautifully set with crystal glasses and silverware gleaming on the pristine white linen. Evelyn had put a beautiful Christmas wreath as a centrepiece with a big votive candle in the middle.

Lunch was a relaxed and chatty affair. Kate had selected Christmas music on her mother's iPod and Michael Bublé's voice sounded like velvet as the soft strains of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas filtered through from the sitting room.

She didn't know how her mother managed it but the turkey was succulent and tasty. Whenever Kate attempted it it was always a bit on the dry side and when she pressed her mother for some tips Evelyn thought she'd better not elaborate on her secret basting sauce or Martin wouldn't eat a morsel. She just smiled and said, "Why thank you dear - glad you are enjoying it."

Aunty Joan had brought a home-made Christmas pudding laden with dried fruit and brandy which they also didn't discuss in front of Martin. The fact that there was brandy in the pudding couldn't be hidden though because when they were ready to eat it Aunty Joan poured a shot of it over the top of the pudding and set it alight in the traditional way and the blue and yellow flames danced briefly as the alcohol burned away leaving the air filled with the rich aroma of spices. Martin hadn't spoken much all through the meal but he seemed to enjoy his food and he even had a sip of champagne. Kate was pleased. She put it down to him not being near the hospital and there being no possibility of being called out to an emergency. No-one knew he was in Portwenn or even that he was a doctor. Or she didn't think so anyway unless her mother or Joan had mentioned it.

After the table had been cleared and the dishwasher stacked they all went to the sitting room where the fire crackled and the Christmas tree twinkled and Michael Bublé still sang softly in the background. The base of the Christmas tree was now surrounded by a pile of wrapped gifts. Kate sat on the floor and leaned against Martin's legs as she began doling them out. Everyone began opening their presents and exclaiming over the contents but when Kate looked up at Martin he was sitting motionless with his presents beside him on the sofa. Kate was just about to say, 'Come on Martin..." when she realised that he was shy and embarrassed. She smiled up at him and rubbed his leg where no-one could see. She handed him one of her own gifts, a little hessian bag tied with a pretty red ribbon, "Help me open this one please Martin...the knot is a bit tight and I want to keep the ribbon and the bag intact." He didn't seem to mind and when he was finished she slipped one of his presents onto his lap and nodded at him and he began to open it under cover of everyone chattering. Kate had got him another collectable book on clocks and a soft dark blue cashmere scarf. Inside the scarf she'd placed a book of Carol Ann Duffy's poems. Kate had come to know the Poet Laureate's work after hearing Benedict Cumberbatch recite a poem of hers called 'Richard' at the memorial service for King Richard the Third. She'd checked Martin's bookshelf and there were none by Duffy. That Martin loved poetry always surprised her. He seemed to be able to let his feelings roam free in the words - words that others found easier to say than he could.

Martin's eyes smiled at her and she knew he would thank her properly later but he slid his hand down the side of the cushion and briefly squeezed her fingers. He had bought her a new smartphone as hers had been giving trouble recently. She knelt beside him and kissed his cheek and he blushed and gave a little grunt. "Mmm…"

"You spoil me. That's very extravagant Martin," she said softly.

He frowned. "No it's not. It's practical. You need a reliable phone so..."

The afternoon was spent relaxing in front of the fire and at 3 pm they watched the Queen deliver her Christmas speech on television. It had been a tradition in the Rushton household ever since Kate could remember. While everyone's attention was on the screen, Joan observed Kate and Martin as they sat side by side on the sofa. All through lunch she'd noticed the slight tension between them. She knew how reserved and uptight her nephew could be, but she also knew how relaxed and happy Kate was and today, try as she might, Kate was not being her usual sunny self. There was a distracted reserve to her and an uneasy timidness to Martin whenever he looked at Kate. There was definitely something not right between them - certainly not the happy couple they ought to be with a wedding only weeks away.

After the Queen's speech Evelyn got up and said she would put the kettle on for tea and Kate went to help leaving Joan and her nephew sitting in front of the fire. Joan looked at his sombre face and pursed her lips.

"So… are you going to tell me what's going on Martin?"

He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

She fixed him with a look that had often had him squirming as a young schoolboy when he'd visited the farm.

"Don't be obtuse. You know what I am talking about. Something is off between you and Kate. Not at all what I expect from a happily betrothed couple." She looked at him and her blue eyes didn't waiver.

Martin coughed and tugged at his ear. "Umm...yes...well we've had a little disagreement, that's all."

Joan continued to look at him. "What about…? Were you being your usual charming self?"

"It's really none of your business Aunty Joan." He looked sideways at her expecting a blasting but instead she leaned closer.

"Nonsense. It is my business when I see you pussyfooting around one another. You're getting married in a month Martin...the pair of you should have worked out by now how to resolve 'little disagreements'."

"Mmm…"

"Come on...out with it."

Martin groaned inwardly. He knew his aunt wouldn't let it go. She never did until the problem was aired and there was a clear plan of action on the table. She'd always been like that.

"Umm...the subject of having children came up when we visited Tom Gray yesterday. Basically she wants children and I...do not." He dipped his chin and pointedly looked at the fire.

Joan stared at him round-eyed and momentarily speechless. This wasn't just some spat over squeezing the toothpaste tube at the wrong end. This was serious. She thought for a moment before she spoke. "That is hardly a 'little disagreement' Marty. What's the problem? Do you think you are too old to be a father? Forty isn't old you know. I know men who have become fathers in their fifties...devoted fathers."

He frowned and said irritably, "It's got nothing to do with my age." He jumped up and went to the fire and threw a couple of logs on the glowing embers then turned and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "I don't want to run the risk of being like my parents. I am not capable of providing the emotional support and affection that a child deserves...and I'd rather not bring a child into the world who will end up...like me...miserable and…emotionally crippled..." His voice petered out and he waited for the storm to rain down on his head.

"Oh Marty…" Joan thought back to the little boy who had come to the farm for the summer. Any other seven year old would have been a handful on the farm, running about, noisy, getting up to mischief but Martin had seemed so unsure of himself and almost incapable of having fun. He was so serious and always seemed to be expecting censure. It took weeks before he would spontaneously do anything and by that time it was almost time for him to go back to boarding school. She and Phil had often talked about it. For such a young boy he seemed almost grown up. His eyes missed nothing. His retention of knowledge was astonishing but he never laughed or argued or sulked like any other child of his age would.

She remembered the first time Martin had helped Phil catch a chicken in the long coop behind the farmhouse and Martin had slipped and fallen with his bottom in the mud. Phil had said his face looked as if someone was going to beat the daylights out of him. He kept trying to clean his clothes with a desperation that bordered on panic and Phil had to stop him. He'd put his hand on Martin's shoulder and said, "Come now boy...it's only mud...it'll come out in the wash. Your aunt will have it clean as a whistle in no time." Martin's eyes had filled with tears and it seemed as if he didn't know whether to believe him or not.

Joan had known that Christopher and Margaret were not what one would call 'natural' parents. Martin had always been a burden to them, an irritation to be gotten rid of - nannies, boarding school, and then to the farm for the summer. Out of sight was out of mind. From the age of six he'd hardly spent any time in their company and when he did he was made to feel that he caused them nothing but trouble. No wonder the poor man didn't want children. He had no compass with which to find his way. Except for her and Phil he'd had no relationship with any adults who'd shown love towards him. She could understand his fear of emulating the behaviour of his parents.

She looked at him now, so distinguished, so successful in his career and yet so unsure of himself in other ways. She wondered how Kate dealt with that. From what Evelyn had told her Kate adored Martin. She truly loved him and he her. And yet they'd reached this impasse.

"Martin...I could never have children. It was something Phil and I longed for but it wasn't to be. I just could not sustain a pregnancy and eventually my doctor advised us not to try anymore. Back then there weren't as many options as there are today." She stood up and went to him. He towered over her and his grey eyes were guarded.

"It left an emptiness in our lives which we eventually just never spoke about. It was too painful. But then you started coming down for the summer and it brought us such joy. Having you there made us feel like parents. We knew it wasn't a permanent arrangement but it gave us something to look forward to. We wanted so much to be parents."

She looked down into the fire and said softly, "We knew you weren't happy...we asked your father to let you come to us...permanently...you could have gone to school locally. But he wouldn't hear of it."

Martin couldn't hide his surprise. He'd had no idea. His thoughts raced, going back over those times and how he'd felt when he was down on the farm where no-one cared if his clothes were mucky or if he asked too many questions or if he wanted to sit in the summer house and read after his chores were done. When they were together they drew him into conversation and seemed interested in what he had to say. And then the visits to the farm had stopped abruptly. He'd been devastated and confused. His father had told him that his aunt and uncle found him to be a handful and they didn't want him there anymore. If, as Aunt Joan had just said, they had virtually wanted to adopt him why had they not wanted him there anymore? What had he done to turn them against him?

"You didn't want me to come to the farm anymore."

Joan looked up at Martin and shook her head slowly. "No Martin. Is that what your father told you?" She paused then gave a resigned sigh. "That's not true. We always wanted you there. But something happened…"

Martin saw that she was struggling to continue.

"I don't know why it happened...because I loved your Uncle Phil...but I...uh...I had an affair. It was brief and intense and I stopped it before it could develop into anything...bigger. But your father somehow got to hear about it. It upset him so much that he refused to let you come to Portwenn again. He said that he wouldn't have his son living in a house with a woman guilty of 'gross moral turpitude' as he put it...which is ironic really because your father was known for his dalliances right throughout his marriage."

Martin was shocked. Since the age of eleven he'd thought it had been his fault that his aunt and uncle didn't want him to visit anymore.

Joan looked at him as if she could read his mind. "It wasn't your fault Marty...it was mine. I often tried to analyse why it happened. I met John Slater when he'd come to Portwenn in his yacht. He was a carefree man, a man who lived in the moment...so full of life...so interesting. He swept me off my feet. We both knew it couldn't go anywhere but we had that time together…" She looked into the fire and her face looked soft. "I don't know whether I was trying to fill that void in me...the emptiness that came with not having babies. All I know is that the emptiness was always there between me and Phil - and I always felt that it was my fault - I couldn't sustain a pregnancy so…" She sighed and looked up at Martin again. "Every time I fell pregnant - five times to be exact - there was that hope, that frisson of expectation that we would at last be parents. We were entering unknown territory and it was a bit frightening...the unknown is always frightening. But then each time our hopes were dashed and eventually they just died."

Martin felt a stirring of compassion for his aunt. He remembered her being 'ill' one summer but he'd obviously not been told that she had miscarried. It must have been that. His aunt had seemed sad rather than sick if he recalled. He looked down at her and little pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

"What I am trying to say Marty is that even if you want to have children, the possibility of becoming a parent can be daunting. Some people become parents when they don't want to be and yet when they do something changes. For what it's worth, I don't think for one minute that you could ever be like your parents. You are far too sensitive."

Martin grunted derisively.

"Yes you are. I have known you your whole life Marty. There is not a harsh bone in your body no matter how much you try and show the world otherwise." She reached over and patted his arm. "I don't think there is anything for you to worry about on that score. And with Kate as your partner there will always be a moderating presence in the family. Your love for her will form the basis of the family unit. If your love for one another is strong, your foundation is strong. A child will feel it and know that they too are loved...you'll see."

Just then Kate and Evelyn returned with a tray of tea and biscuits and Martin frowned his disapproval when his aunt reached for a chocolate digestive. "Oh stop judging Marty...it's Christmas." She held out the plate. "Have one."

Martin scowled and grunted. "Sugar and saturated fat...you are punishing your pancreas Aunty Joan."

Kate reached over, "I'll have one...our pancreases know it's Christmas, Martin...they've called a truce."

Martin's scowl deepened and Evelyn handed him his cup of tea. "Don't mind them...they're teasing you."

"Mmm...yes...so I see."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **The poem referred to can be seen on YouTube - search for 'Benedict Cumberbatch King Richard Poem" The entire ceremony is worth watching if one has the time.**

 **Once again I must thank everyone who left comments (thanks Linda F for spotting my spelling error which I have subsequently corrected).**


	57. Chapter 57

The Christmas break seemed to fly by and Kate and Martin were soon on their way back to London with the prospect of working over the New Year period. They had both volunteered seeing that they'd had time off over Christmas and neither of them wanted to be at home if the other was working.

They still hadn't broached the subject of children again but the weight of the unfinished business was on their hearts. Martin could only get to see Francis in the week after New Year so they tacitly agreed not to talk about it until then but their usually relaxed and intimate relationship was taking strain. It was a subtle undercurrent, something that couldn't quite be defined but if Kate had to try she would say it was a holding back; a feeling that neither of them was one hundred percent present in the moment. It was most evident the first time they made love after Martin's declaration that he didn't want children. Outwardly nothing had changed - the tenderness, the passion and Martin's consideration as a lover was all just the same, but she knew he felt a mental separateness, just as she did. There was an unwanted intrusion of thoughts when there was usually only the total giving of themselves to one another. Neither said anything about it. Neither wanted to acknowledge that there was any difference in the way they were with one another because if they did, it would mean that things had changed - and not in a good way.

Kate knew how sensitive Martin was. His eyes spoke volumes. He followed her every movement when they were together as if he was afraid that she would leave and her heart broke for him - for both of them. The first thing he would think was that she wouldn't want to be with him anymore, so she subtly tried to reassure him. This was something that would test their love for one another. As far as Kate was concerned she would always love Martin - that wasn't the problem. Dealing with the shadow that loomed between them was the problem; it had become the third presence in their relationship - it lurked and demanded their attention. That was the problem. Kate wished with all her heart that she could banish it and they could go back to how it was. Maybe after Martin's visit to Francis things might be different but if it wasn't resolved, they would both have to work at living with this new dimension in their relationship. In the meantime they both pretended the shadow wasn't there. And so the week slipped by.

New Year came and went in a blur of work. The madness of the festivities brought in a wave of trauma patients that kept the vascular team busy for almost sixteen hours. It was a frantic two days and they hardly had time to talk they were so tired. This was in contrast to the following week which got off to a slow start. A lot of people were still on leave and it suited Martin because he had some business to attend to. The wedding was a little over three weeks away and the preparations had been consuming most of Kate's free time. He wished more than ever that they could just disappear and be married in secret - just the two of them and maybe Evelyn and Aunty Joan. No stress. No waiting. He consoled himself that it wasn't too long now.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Jen put the phone down then stared at it as if it was going to jump up and bite her. The hubbub around the busy nurses' station in A&E hardly penetrated as she stood deep in thought. The call had been from Mrs Blake, Martin Ellingham's receptionist. Mr Ellingham would like to see you, she'd said, and can you come to his rooms at 6 pm? She couldn't think of any work related reason he would want to see her so it could only have something to do with Kate. But what?

Promptly at six she opened the door to his rooms and found Mrs Blake seated behind her desk in the reception area.

"Hi - I'm Jen Walker."

Mrs Blake stood up. "Yes of course. Mr Ellingham will see you now...just give me a moment." And she disappeared into his consulting room. A moment later she ushered Jen in and closed the door behind her.

Martin stood up from behind his desk. "Umm...good evening Miss Walker...uhh...please take a seat." He indicated one of the chairs opposite.

Jen took in his immaculate appearance, the tailored slate grey suit and the perfectly knotted bordeaux red tie. He was an imposing man, tall and stern but a little on edge this evening if she had to guess. She hoped everything was alright. She sat down and waited for him to speak.

"Umm...I have asked you here in the hope that you could help me with some information." He gave a little cough and put his hand in the front of his jacket to smooth his tie.

Jen could see he was struggling a little.

"You are probably aware...umm… that Kate and I are getting married..." he paused and mumbled, "yes of course you are…" He took a deep breath and seemed to square himself, "I have been tasked with arranging the err...honeymoon," he dipped his head, "and I was wondering if you might know where Kate...might like to go. Has she ever hinted at a place she'd like to visit...or if she's been somewhere in the past that she's particularly liked? She is very well travelled and I...umm...I thought you might have a better idea...seeing that you have been friends…for a long time..." His voice petered out and he looked at Jen from under his brows as if he expected her to laugh.

Jen smiled and relief made her bubble forth. "Of _course_...the _honeymoon_." She leaned back in her chair. "You're right about Kate being well travelled. And as for favourite places...mmm...there's France of course - Paris...but you've been there together...twice." She grinned at him and saw the colour tinge his cheeks. My God he was so shy. "She loves Cape Town...says she will definitely go again one day but perhaps not now...they're experiencing a very bad drought." She put a finger under her chin and looked up. "Mmm...I know! She's never been to Antarctica...I hear the accommodation is not that great though...but I'm sure you will find something suitable…"

Martin's eyes went round, "Antarctica?"

Jen grinned.

Martin pulled his chin in. "Ahh...that was a joke."

"Yes." The poor man took everything so seriously. How did Kate manage when she had such a wicked sense of humour? "Seriously though, if I had to think of one place she's always talked about but never been it's the Maldives. She's always said it's a romantic paradise. - a place where you can just relax and be one with nature. Perfect for a honeymoon I would say."

Good God, one with nature? Martin's imagination ran wild. He envisaged cooking over open fires and walking barefoot. His eyes were round as saucers.

Jen smiled broadly. "If I had to arrange the honeymoon, that's where I'd choose. She will _love_ it."

Instead of looking pleased with the answer Martin looked slightly perplexed. "Right...well umm...thank you, Miss Walker." He walked to the door and held it open for her.

Jen paused as she reached him. "I take it you want to keep it a secret, but if you let me know in advance I'll make sure Kate has the correct clothing packed and ready for the trip."

Martin hadn't thought of that. "Yes...thank you...I will."

"And it's Jen, by the way."

He frowned. "What?"

"Call me Jen...you're marrying my oldest friend so I think first names are OK...unless you mind me calling you Martin...but only in private of course."

"Uhh...no, Martin is fine..." he coughed softly. "Right then..."

His expression was thoughtful as he looked down at her and she thought Kate had been correct about him having extraordinary eyes. You wanted to know what he was thinking when he looked at you like that.

Martin closed the door and went back to his desk. The Maldives. He opened his laptop and typed it into Google. A half hour went by as he clicked on the links and looked at the various resorts. It was beautiful, luxurious...not perhaps a place he would have chosen...too much water and probably too hot...no museums or bookshops...but if it would make Kate happy...

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Francis Myburgh sat and watched Martin hang up his coat before he walked to the chair opposite her in the sitting area of her consulting room. He had a deep frown on his face and he seemed tense as he shot his cuffs and hitched his trouser legs before sitting down.

He looked up and his grey eyes were intense. "There is something I would like to talk about...if that is alright with you?"

"Yes of course. What's on your mind?"

He sighed deeply. "Kate and I recently visited the vicar who will be conducting our wedding ceremony and the...umm...subject of...having children came up."

Francis knew exactly what he was going to say but she waited for him to continue.

"Kate and I have never spoken about it before but basically...I don't think I should...umm...be a parent and Kate wants to have children...very much."

Francis saw him look down at his hands. She suspected what the reasons were behind his decision but she needed to hear it from him. "Why do you think you shouldn't be a father Martin?"

His frown deepened. "Isn't it obvious? In view of everything we've talked about?"

"Not really...I can understand why you _think_ you wouldn't make a good father. You're afraid you will behave like your parents did towards you." She waited. "Am I right?"

"Yes." He twisted the ring on his finger.

"Martin I understand your fears but there is no certainty that you will be anything like your parents. In fact, in your case, I think the opposite is likely to be true. From what I have observed and, from what I have learned from Kate, you are a highly sensitive man. You exhibit tenderness and care towards Kate...because you love her. In my experience, given your sensitive nature, it is unlikely that you could be cold and remote towards a child that you and Kate have brought into the world...together."

Martin stared deeply into her eyes as he evaluated what she'd said. "But there is a chance that I might be...unaffectionate and remote."

"As I said, there are no guarantees. But what we need to talk through is whether your aversion to having children is because of your own childhood or whether it is something else. There are people who just don't want to have children and it has nothing to do with their own childhoods - it's more a personal decision. They have no desire whatsoever to be parents. Then there are those who don't want to have children for medical reasons such as mental health issues or rare genetic diseases. And then there are those who don't want to inflict their perceived emotional disability on their children. So they remove the possibility of failure. They don't take the risk in case they mess up. Is this how you see it?"

Martin still looked down at his hands. "Kate says that when you hold your own child it's different. I don't know about that - all I know is that I find other people's children irritating. Even my godson Dan. There's nothing wrong with him but I just don't feel all warm and fuzzy towards him."

"You have a godson?"

"Yes." He looked at Francis as if she might think he was a freak.

"How do you understand your role as a godparent?"

"What do you mean...role?"

"Is it a token title or status for you? Is it merely part of the whole traditional thing - a name in a church register and nothing more?"

He considered that statement then frowned, "No. I take it very seriously indeed...well not the religious side of things so much...but certainly the well-being of the child. If anything happened to Chris or his wife I would take the role seriously...yes."

Francis smiled at him. "Well that in itself speaks volumes Martin. If you were that opposed to children you would never have accepted that responsibility."

When he said nothing she went on, "How did Kate react when you told her you didn't want children?"

Martin looked uncomfortable. "She was understandably upset. Very upset."

"Did you discuss in any depth what the implications are?"

"Some...she said basically what you have just said…" He got up and went to the window and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "She didn't want to call the wedding off...I thought she might have wanted to. She could easily find someone who would want to have children with her…" He spun round. "The thought of that...is...unbearable." His face looked harrowed. "But...if I changed my mind to please her and we had a child and it didn't work out...she would despise me - she would come to hate me. And that is also unbearable."

"What are you so afraid of Martin? What is it about being a father that scares you?"

Martin's brows almost connected over his nose and his eyes were like chips of flint. "Have you not been listening? I am incapable of being...like a father should be."

"And how should a father be...what makes a good father?"

Martin stared at her as if she was being stupid. "You, of all people, should know the qualities of a good father." He scowled and began to tick off on his fingers. "He should be loving...patient...tolerant. He should be physically affectionate and kind. He should participate in a child's life...take an interest in their education, their experiences...acknowledge their fears and...their dreams…"

Martin's voice petered out and he turned his back on her as he tried to bring his emotions under control.

"A child should feel safe around his father. He should feel he could go to him with any problem and be taken seriously. He should feel that he matters…he should never feel fear or humiliation or be unsure of how his father will react in a situation..." He was silent for a moment and twisted the ring on his finger. "A father should always be there...he should be a constant, secure and dependable presence...a father should always show love..." As he spoke his tone was almost angry as if he was confronting his own father.

Francis felt great compassion for Martin. She'd noticed the switch from his using 'they' when talking about the child to 'he'. What he was doing was verbalising his own hurt and anger towards a father who had exhibited none of the traits he had just mentioned. Neither parent had.

"You have summed it up very well Martin. You have come up with the core attributes of a good parent: love, patience, kindness, stability, presence...care. My question to you is...given that you have identified all these qualities...how is it possible that you think you will not be sensitive to a child's needs, to a child's dependence on you as a parent? I would say that if you _couldn't_ identify the qualities of a good parent there might be room to question your suitability."

She put her notebook down on the little table next to her and watched as he walked from the window and sat down again. She saw the confusion on his face. "I think that because you are so aware of the shortcomings of your own childhood, you will empathise more with a child of your own...you are more likely to ensure your child will never feel or experience what you did. I think your own experience will make you more sensitive to the needs of your child and you will avoid the mistakes your parents made with you. I also think that with Kate by your side, you will have a sounding board...a loving sounding board. Someone you can go to when you are unsure of what to do or say. You will have each other to consult as you grow as parents."

Martin shook his head. "You can't gamble with a child's life...you can't say maybe it will work, maybe it won't. If it doesn't work and I mess it up, the child will be scarred for life…you can't undo that."

Francis looked at his tortured face. "Martin...think for a moment. The one absolute certainty in your life right now is your love for Kate. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"And you are certain that she loves you?"

He frowned, "Yes...I've told you that before."

"Before you met her did you ever think that there would come a day that you would find someone whom you could love so unconditionally and that she would love you as deeply as she does?"

He was silent for a long moment. "No."

"Up until the moment she told you she loved you, the possibility seemed remote and unattainable...it was a dream…"

"Yes." His voice was soft.

"And now look - you are marrying the woman of your dreams. Good things do happen...dreams do come true."

Martin's eyes were soft as he stared at her. "Yes...they do."

"Now I want you to think for a moment...what would the outcome have been had you not followed your heart and allowed yourself to risk everything to tell her you loved her? What would the outcome have been had you decided that you would not make a good partner...lover...companion - had you not let Kate decide that for herself. What would have happened had you not acted on your love for her? You would have let her walk out of your life...and you wouldn't be getting married in a couple of weeks. Am I right?"

Martin's eyes were round. "Yes."

"You had no way of knowing what the outcome would be when you declared your love...yet you had no thought for anything but the overwhelming love you had for her and that love carried you through. The love you have for Kate broke down the walls you had built around yourself...it allowed you to express yourself to her...it peeled back the layers of protection and it exposed the man you really are...caring, loving, tender, passionate, kind...and yet you didn't think you had it in you to be any of those things, did you? Love has liberated that side of you…the love you have for Kate and the love she has for you."

Francis could see him struggling to acknowledge what she was getting at.

"What I am saying Martin, is that side of you was always there. It just needed someone like Kate to bring it to the surface...but it was there all the time. And that's why I think you could no more treat a child of yours like your parents treated you than you could treat Kate that way...because that child will be conceived in love...and that child will have two loving parents...two Martin. You have in you what your parents never had - you have a caring and tender heart."

She paused as she watched the emotions battling for dominance on his face. "I can't tell you what to do, but I can say that your love for Kate is the biggest moderating factor in any decision you make - and not only about children...about everything. It is the cornerstone of your life and you will find that your naturally caring qualities will come to the fore. Remember what I said before...don't let the voices of your parents rule your thoughts and emotions. You must silence them. You must allow Martin to speak and act...not them. You must follow your own heart."

A little while later Martin stepped onto the pavement and began the short walk home. The rain had held off but it was cold, the type of cold that pinched one's face and made one's eyes water. He didn't care. His thoughts were all about what Francis had said. Was he a naturally caring and loving person? When he thought of Kate the tenderness welled up in him. It made him feel soft inside. It made him want to touch and hold her, to express his love for her. Francis was basically telling him that those feelings would be transferred to a child if they had one. When he thought of Kate carrying their child, he felt a stirring within him. What would it be like to know that you'd conceived a child? How would he react to sharing Kate with another living being - one that they had brought into the world together? Having a child would make Kate happy and he'd often thought that he would do anything to make her happy. Anything? When it meant that a little life might be stunted by his blundering efforts as a father?

He walked quickly along the high street, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his overcoat. The lights from shop windows shone out, enticing the eyes. There were clothing stores, a little book shop, the bakery he frequented, a cycle shop and for the first time he noticed one he'd never seen before. Tiny Tots. He stopped. In the window was a display of the tiniest clothing he'd ever seen in his life. Little one piece garments in lemon yellow, pink, blue and pale green. There was a pram with all the accoutrements displayed around it. It looked like something that belonged in the space shuttle - all belts and padding and protective hoods. Could he see himself embracing all of this - doing the things that fathers do? Bringing another life into the world - bringing it into their circle of love, a love that had taken so long to come into his life, a love that he would not be able to live without.

"You don't want to be looking at that stuff mate...before you know it you'll be changing nappies and driving an SUV."

Martin spun around and looked at the man walking away from him, still chuckling. He was clearly inebriated. Was he a father? Was he going home to a wife and child in that state? "Moron." he said loud enough for the man to hear and strode off. A scowl darkened his face and his lip curled as he thought of the man's comment. SUV? He'd said it as if it was a bad thing. Not all of them were bad. Some were as luxurious as his Lexus. He quickened his pace in the hope of beating the rain and getting home - to Kate.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	58. Chapter 58

Martin picked at his food. There was nothing wrong with it, it was the thought of where he and Chris were going when they left the restaurant that made the food less appealing.

Chris looked up from his plate. "Alright Mart?" He sipped his orange juice as he eyed his sombre friend across the table.

"Yes...I'm fine."

The deep frown and distracted behaviour wasn't lost on Chris. "I'm not leading you to the gallows, you know." He shook his head and tried to catch his friend's eye. "The place we're going to has a range of conservative items, don't worry."

"Mmm...so you keep telling me."

Chris was taking him shopping for clothes and, as simple as that might seem, Martin felt nothing but trepidation. When Chris had found out where he'd booked to go on honeymoon the first thing he'd said was, "Maldives? Right mate - you'll need a whole new wardrobe for that."

"What do you mean?" Martin had looked alarmed.

"Sun, sea, swimming, sunbathing...you can't go there with a suitcase full of tailored suits Mart. You will die of heat - and besides, what are you going to swim in? I'd bet my last shilling you don't own any swimming trunks."

Martin had stared at him as if he was mad. He knew the Maldives was nothing but water, beaches and blue skies but he still had not given any thought to what he would pack in his luggage. He'd been putting it off.

And now this clothing expedition loomed. What if Chris tried to make him dress like some overzealous Englishman on holiday? Oh God, he'd seen the type - dressed in the most outlandish clothing - garish shirts with ridiculous patterns, shorts that were too baggy and sandals with buckles everywhere. He shuddered.

An hour later they arrived at an exclusive men's clothing shop. Chris took the shop assistant aside. "My friend is a bit...err...difficult when it comes to clothing," he said as they watched Martin walk off to the other side of the shop. "Perhaps it's best if you let me handle things. I will call if we need help."

The assistant appraised the tall man as he stood looking at some jackets. "He has a good figure - long legs. Nice suit...tailored to perfection. Very stylish." He turned to Chris and rattled off Martin's sizes. "If I may offer some advice sir, you should stick to more conservative styles and colours…he has a certain gravitas that you don't want to lose...yes...very dignified."

Chris rolled his eyes. Even the shop assistant was on Martin's side. Oh well. Just getting him to wear a shirt without a tie would seem like an accomplishment in his book.

Chris browsed through the rails then showed Martin some t-shirts.

Martin's lip curled. "You don't expect me to wear that in public do you? They look like pyjamas." He turned away. Chris called after him and held up a pair of shorts.

"I'm not wearing that. Good Lord they've got pockets everywhere...or pouches or whatever you call them. What on earth does anyone want with so many? Ridiculous."

Chris showed him a short-sleeved shirt in pale blue with a faint paisley pattern in it. Martin just stared at him with one eyebrow raised until he hung it back on the rail. Time after time Martin shook his head and Chris would look for something else. The shop assistant watched this for fifteen minutes then beckoned Chris.

"Sir," he said quietly, "you should stay away from the extremely casual clothing. It does not suit his personality. Clothing must enhance the character not fight against it. You will only make him feel uncomfortable." He walked to a rail against the wall at the back of the shop and flicked through the hangers. "Here...try these." Then he went to a rack of shirts. "He will prefer long sleeves rolled up rather than short sleeves...and that's perfectly acceptable in a holiday setting. He _is_ going on holiday, I presume?"

"Honeymoon."

"May I ask where he is going? He is clearly not used to dressing casually."

"Maldives. And he doesn't own a stitch of casual clothing unless you count pyjamas."

The shop assistant looked completely unfazed. "All the more reason to stick to clothes that are not too casual. He will feel like a fish out of water." He snickered. "No pun intended."

He handed Chris various items which he took back to Martin.

"Try this on Mart" He held up a pair of dark blue chino shorts, his face clearly showing his frustration. "Look - they are beautifully tailored just as you like it and knee length too - made by one of the top brands. You could go out to dinner in those."

Dinner in shorts? Martin's eyes almost popped out of his head. He was just about to protest when Chris fixed him with a look that meant he was about to make a scene. Martin retreated to the fitting room. While he was there Chris, aided by the shop assistant, brought in more items of clothing: shirts, swimming trunks, full length chinos, lightweight sneakers and a baseball cap which Chris slipped in when the assistant wasn't looking. Martin was horrified.

"Good God - absolutely not! Have you lost your mind? The next thing you'll expect me to wear flip flops."

The shop assistant glowered at Chris and pursed his lips as if to say 'I told you so'. Martin's scowl deepened by the minute. When they were ready to leave Chris watched him like a hawk in case he tried to leave some of the clothing aside. Chris knew him far too well.

They left a while later laden with bags and Chris steered him towards a shop that specialised in sunglasses. Rack after rack of sunglasses in all shapes and sizes loomed and Martin stood frowning in the middle of the shop. A shop assistant approached but he waved her away. "No...we were just leaving...thank you."

Chris hastily blocked his exit. "No we're not. You won't be sorry Mart. The glare off all that water will be hard on the eyes. Think of it as a necessary medical intervention." Martin gave him a scowl and submitted himself to trying on pair after pair. When he'd finally made his choice, he was shocked at the price.

"It's a quality brand Mart. You don't want rubbish lenses messing up your eyes do you? Besides it really suits you - Kate will approve."

Martin snorted derisively.

Once they were done they walked back to the hospital and into Martin's empty consulting room. Chris plonked himself down in one of the chairs. "You look like you're chewing on a lemon."

Martin ignored him as he placed the shopping bags in the little dressing room. Chris watched his friend return to his desk. He was always so well groomed. He must be feeling very insecure with the clothing they'd bought but it had to be done.

"Cheer up Mart. No-one except Kate is going to see you in those clothes unless you want them to. The villa you have booked is as private as you will get outside your own home. You will have your own pool - your own steps down into the ocean. The average temperature is in the mid eighties. Absolute bliss. You will thank me for making you take those clothes along." He smirked at Martin, "Not that you will be thinking of me or clothes on your honeymoon."

Martin scowled at him. "No…I most certainly won't."

On his way home Martin stopped at the drycleaners and handed over the bags, instructing that the clothing be washed and ironed but that he would collect them when it was done. He didn't want Kate to see his newly acquired outfits. He still had his doubts about wearing any of it but he had a feeling that she was going to side one hundred percent with Chris once they were in the Maldives and he would rather have some say in what he wore even if it wasn't his first choice.

And so the preparations for the wedding progressed. Kate and Jen were doing last minute things and January was almost gone by the time Martin had finalised the travel arrangements. They would leave the day after the wedding and spend a week in the Maldives and three days in Paris on the way back.

Evelyn and Joan had arranged for the newlyweds to stay at a small, private lodge, about thirty minutes from Portwenn, on the night of the wedding. They would be taken there straight after the reception and everything would be laid on so they needn't worry about food or anything. Kate was so overwhelmed when her mother had told her on the phone that she burst into tears.

"Is everything too much for you darling? Please don't worry - you have plenty of people to call on for help. Is Martin being supportive?"

"Yes he is but there is not much he can do to help when it comes to photographers and wedding cakes or petals for the confetti…anyway Jen is just the best. She is so organised. I'm just emotional that's all Mum."

The time was getting closer for them to travel down to Portwenn. Kate was going to stay with her mother and Martin was going to his Aunt. They wouldn't see each other for two days prior to the wedding until they met at the church.

Martin could not believe the amount of planning that went into a ceremony that would last half an hour and a reception that was at a hotel , whose staff were meant to do all the work. Kate seemed as if she was always on the phone to suppliers or caterers. The past two weeks had been a frantic round of last minute arrangements and some quick trips down to Cornwall for Kate and Jen.

Martin had asked her to slow down after her latest overnight trip.

"You look tired."

He watched her slip into bed beside him.

"I'm fine Martin. I'm just so excited."

"Mmm…even so…"

They lay together in the darkness and he felt her warm body wrapped around his. Her hand as usual was under his t-shirt stroking his chest. She reached up and kissed him gently then lay down again with her cheek against his chest and fell asleep almost as soon as she'd closed her eyes.

The coming weekend was to be Kate's hen party. Her girlfriends were fetching her on Friday evening and bringing her back on Saturday. Martin had frowned when he'd heard about the plans and Kate fixed him with a look that said "what?".

He looked as if he was about to speak but then thought better of it.

"It's not what you think Martin. We won't get wasted and do stupid things, don't worry."

She'd looked at his disapproving expression and crooked a finger at him. "Come here gorgeous."

He'd lowered his head and stayed put.

"Oh...it's like that is it?" Kate had walked slowly over to where he stood against the kitchen counter and run her hands up his chest and around his neck. "Are you a little jealous my darling man?"

"No...not at all."

"So why the disapproving look...mmm?"

He looked down at her and felt her hands roaming down his back and over his hips. Her body pressed against his and he suddenly couldn't think of a thing to say.

"Umm...not disapproving...no...mmm…Kate..."

Any further discussion was forgotten.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

When the subject of the hen party had come up in the Parsons' household, Chris bemoaned the fact that he had tried his best to arrange a bachelor's party. When he'd first broached the subject Martin hadn't even let him get past the first sentence.

"Absolutely not!"

"But Mart, it's a tradition. All your mates are expecting something."

"No they're _not_. None of them are likely to relish a bachelor party for goodness sake. Simon is sixty and Arthur is in his fifties. Alistair Brentwood is...well...Alistair's very reserved…"

"You mean he's like you?"

Martin frowned. "It might have escaped your notice but most of my friends are mature adults…unlike some..." He eyed Chris.

Chris grinned. "Come on Mart…"

"Look...if you want a party go right ahead but don't expect me to be there...making a fool of myself." He huffed back into his chair behind his desk and scowled at Chris sitting opposite him.

Chris leaned back. "Damn...I suppose I'll have to cancel the stripper now."

" _Stripper_?" Martin looked like he was going explode.

Chris burst out laughing and held up his hands "Whoa...just kidding…"

Martin's eyes narrowed and he was just about to tear a strip off Chris when Chris said, "Alright, alright…calm down. What about a friendly get together over a meal and some drinks...somewhere you can let your hair down a little?"

"I don't ' _let my hair down'_ Parsons." Martin's tone was exasperated. "It's not something I do. So _no_."

He'd fixed Chris with a glare he knew very well. There would be no backing down.

Martin vividly recalled Chris's bachelor party. His so-called friends had almost killed him with alcohol. Martin had administered a drip in his flat and nursed Chris for two days afterwards. Bachelor parties were, in his opinion, the worst idea ever devised by grown men.

Chris had to admit defeat and instead spent his energy making sure Martin had collected Kate's wedding ring and the honeymoon arrangements had been finalised. He also planned transport to and from the church and reception, arranged the beverages for the reception and made sure that the happy couple would make the airport in time for their trip to the Maldives.

With only days to go, Chris was surprised at how calm Martin was. He went about his last few procedures as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

On Martin's last day Mrs Blake came to him with a card and a beautifully wrapped gift.

"Just a little something to wish you and Kate all the best."

Martin looked down at her, his expression almost bashful. She reminded him a little of Francis with her short hair and petite build. She held out her hand and he shook it and then on an impulse he leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. There was a slight flush on his own cheeks as he straightened again and cleared his throat. He turned towards his desk. "Right...yes...thank you Mrs Blake."

She smiled and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Francis settled herself in her chair and looked at Martin sitting opposite her in the sitting area of her consulting room. For a man who was getting married in a few days, Martin was surprisingly calm.

"So how do you feel about your approaching nuptials?"

"Fine...good."

Francis realised that this was Martin's way of sounding enthusiastic. She smiled encouragingly at him.

"I wanted to marry Kate from the moment I realised I loved her so...yes...good."

"Marrying Kate is that important to you? These days marriage often takes a backseat...the modern relationship and all that."

He thought for a moment and remembered asking himself the same question when he'd first planned to ask Kate to marry him. Would it change anything - having a ceremony and signing a piece of paper? And his answer had been yes it would. He still felt that way.

"Yes it is important to me." He looked at Francis and his eyes were contemplative. "Being a husband is another level of commitment - it has a permanence to it, a responsibility - one that I fully commit to." He looked towards the window where the wintry afternoon light was rapidly fading. "I want to be Kate's husband."

Francis smiled. "And I expect you will be a wonderful husband Martin because you are so aware of Kate. You are in tune with her as a person. And I think she is very much in tune with you."

She put her notebook down on the little table beside her chair. "I want to touch on something briefly. Marriage is about respect and about considering your partner's needs. But it is also about respecting and considering your own needs Martin - letting Kate know what your feelings are...when you are worried or upset. Remember she is finely tuned to you and she picks up when something is off. She will try anything to make you happy and you mustn't see that as a negative thing."

"I don't...and I will...let her know."

"Marriage is also about constant renewal. It's easy to fall into a comfortable routine, which is all good and well, but it often leads to boredom and that's when a lot of couples start taking things for granted. I always encourage couples to recapture the passion, the anticipation and the fun in their relationship. Go away together, surprise each other with a special dinner, or a small gift - hug often."

She looked at his almost expressionless face but she saw the flicker in his eyes. She had hardly scratched the surface of the emotions and passions that simmered in this man. She knew that Kate had managed to coax him from behind his walls. She'd managed to persuade him to release a part of himself into her care. She had no doubt that Martin, having fallen in love and committed himself to Kate, would always cherish her and would never take her for granted.

They talked a little while longer about marriage and communication and about trust. When Martin got up to leave at the end of the session, Francis held out her hand. "I wish you every happiness Martin. Enjoy your wedding day and the time away with Kate. It's a time where you will develop a very special bond and create memories to last a lifetime." She smiled up at him as he shook her hand.

"Umm...yes...thank you Francis."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Ruth Ellingham looked at her nephew pacing up and down Joan's sitting room, stopping every now and then to check his watch or adjust his tie. Not that it needed adjusting. He looked distinguished and smart in his black suit and bordeaux red tie. There was a flash of gold at the cuffs of his white silk shirt and his shoes were buffed to perfection.

"Are you sure he wants to get married, Joan? By the looks of him the poor man is ready to bolt any minute."

Joan looked at her sister, so finely built and dark compared to her own solid appearance. "Of course he wants to marry Kate, Ruth. He's besotted with her."

"Well he hasn't been very forthcoming about the whole thing. Hardly said a word at dinner last night."

"Since when has Martin ever been forthcoming about anything Ruth? Except when it comes to medicine."

"Mmm...come to think of it, you may be right."

"Of course I'm right...he's like a son to me."

Joan heard a car pull up in the yard and went to look out of the window. "Chris is here," she said loud enough for Martin to hear. He stopped his pacing and looked at his watch again. On time, thank God.

Ruth shook her head. Martin was every inch an Ellingham - taciturn, abrupt, logical, which made his fidgety behaviour all the more amusing. She went to stand next to him.

"Are you alright? You seem agitated."

Martin's frown deepened. "I am not agitated. I just don't want to be late."

Chris overheard the last remark. "You won't be late. There's still half an hour to go before we have to leave. Relax mate, I've already been to the church and everything is in order."

Martin turned back to the window and looked out over the fields to the sea in the distance. For February it was a fine day. Low cloud hung over the horizon but the air was clear and crisp. They couldn't have picked a better day. Up until the day before the weather had been appalling, with typical winter wind and rain battering Portwenn.

Joan came up to Martin and put her hand on his arm. "Ruth and I are leaving for the church now."

Martin looked down at her. His aunt was more like a mother to him than his own had ever been. His face softened. "Yes...I will see you there...and...thank you."

Joan pulled him closer and put her arms around his shoulders in a bear hug. "My boy...your big day has finally arrived. I'm so proud of you Marty. You couldn't have found anyone more perfect than Kate - soft but not weak, strong but not unbending. Just what you need. I am so glad you have found happiness at a last." She reached up and patted his cheek. "And just you be sure you make Kate happy too. You'll have to curb that tongue of yours Marty. We Ellinghams aren't exactly shining examples of how to be tactful. And you can be particularly...never mind...just be sensitive to her needs. A woman doesn't want to have to ask for attention." She pecked him on the cheek. "We'll see you at the church. Come on Ruth."

Martin dipped his head and cleared his throat as he looked over at a smirking Chris. Being lectured by his aunt was right up Chris's alley and he was bound to hear about it all the way to Altarnun.

What his aunt didn't know was that Kate always communicated her needs. It was a side to her that he was so grateful for. He never had to guess if something had upset her or if she wanted his attention physically or emotionally. And she would sense his needs too. She could take one look at him and know if he wanted to be on his own or if he wanted her comfort. She always made her wishes known. She would also quickly put him in his place if she didn't like something - but then the incident would be over. Forgotten. It never spilled over into days of tense, cold silence...like with his mother.

"Right then...shall we go?" He scowled at Chris.

"We first have to fix your buttonhole." He held out a little box in which a small single ivory-white rose lay nestled in a fine spray of green foliage.

Martin looked at it as if it would bite. His hands remained firmly at his sides.

"Come on Mart. Kate's orders."

"Yessss." Martin hesitated as he put out his hand.

Chris sighed and pulled the box back. "Here...let me help you."

When he took the flower out of the box there was a little envelope no bigger than a business card at the bottom with 'Martin' written on it. He handed it over then eyed the rose and the massive pins that went with it.

Martin opened the envelope and slid the little card out. _My darling man. I can't wait to be your wife. All my love. Always. Kate._

Martin swallowed hard and slipped the card into his pocket as Chris looked enquiringly at him. "Alright Mart?"

"Yes...come on then...let's get on with it."

It took Chris a fumbling five minutes to fix the flower in just the right position on Martin's lapel which wasn't made any easier with Martin complaining loudly that all the clumsy pin jabbing was ruining his suit.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Chris pulled the Lexus to a stop outside the vicarage at St Nonna's church at exactly 3.30 pm, a full half an hour before the ceremony was to begin. Martin sat for a moment and looked out at the little stone bridge with the tea-coloured water bubbling underneath. Guests were slowly making their way up the lanes towards the church gates.

"You ready Mart?"

Martin slowly turned his head and looked at Chris. He had been waiting so long for this day and now that it had finally arrived he felt a strange calm settle over him. Up until now he had felt only a restless impatience.

"Yes."

They got out of the car and walked towards the gate and up the path where guests stood chatting in groups. Martin felt their eyes on him; felt himself under scrutiny from the many people who were seeing him for the first time. They must be wondering who this man was that Kate Rushton had chosen to be her husband - this stern, unsmiling man who strode by without so much as a nod.

At the church door Tom stood waiting, resplendent in his finest cassock and surplus, his usually unruly shock of grey hair had been tamed into some semblance of neatness. His face broke into a smile as he shook hands with Martin and Chris and they stood chatting for a while until Tom said, "Ahh I see Evelyn has arrived. It won't be long now - Kate will be on her way."

Martin grunted and stood with his hands behind his back, studiously avoiding the eyes of curious guests. Instead he looked at the crooked headstones in the churchyard - the dead sleeping amongst the living - a poignant reminder of the circle of life.

Martin saw Evelyn approaching and he bent his head as she reached up to kiss his cheek. His voice was soft as he greeted her. "Evelyn…"

"Kate should already be on her way Martin. When I left the house Jen was just putting the finishing touches to her hair." She patted his arm then left to greet some friends.

At ten minutes to four, Martin and Chris entered the church. The old wooden pews were filled with guests chatting as the organ played softly. The scent of flowers was sweet in the air, blending with the unique smell that all old churches seemed to have.

All eyes followed Martin as he and Chris walked to the front of the church and stood with Tom to one side.

Martin slipped his hand into his pocket and felt for the little card. Soon. The ambient noise in the church receded as his thoughts went back to the first time he'd realised he was in love with Kate and how impossible a day like today had seemed to him back then. He never believed for one moment that a woman like Kate would look at him twice. He never believed that anyone could love him enough to want to spend the rest of their life with him and yet here he was waiting for her to come to him, waiting to stand up in front of all these people and pledge his life to her.

Tom signalled to Chris and he nudged Martin. "She's here. Come on mate."

They moved to stand at the head of the aisle in front of Tom who smiled encouragingly at Martin. The congregation whispered in anticipation. And then the first notes of Mendelssohn's wedding march sounded and the congregation stood up. Martin stared down the long aisle. His heart began to pound.

First Jen appeared and walked down the aisle towards them and she smiled as she reached them and went to stand to the left. Then she turned to look towards the back of the church.

Martin's breath caught in his throat as Kate appeared. She was a vision in white. The soft folds of her full length wedding gown swayed gently as she began a slow walk down the aisle towards him. His mouth went dry and his heart felt like it would burst from his chest. She was so beautiful. A smile lit up her face - the same smile that, so many months ago, had melted the coldness in his heart and replaced it with tenderness and love. She held a bouquet of flowers in front of her and her hair framed her face and fell onto her shoulders and was covered by a short, soft veil held in place by a garland of flowers.

Ruth nudged Joan. "I see what you mean by besotted. Look at Martin's face - there's no doubt he loves his bride-to-be."

"Yes...and when you meet her, you will see just how much she loves him. It's quite the fairy tale relationship - only, instead of the knight rescuing the maiden in distress, the maiden has rescued the lost knight and saved him from a life of loneliness."

Ruth looked sideways at Joan. "You're very poetic today. But then weddings tend to make people do strange things - like cry. You're not going to cry are you?"

Joan lifted her chin. "I might."

Just then Kate reached the front of the church and she handed her bouquet to Jen then came and stood beside Martin. It was as if she was lit up from within and her eyes shone with happiness as she looked up at him.

Tom greeted them softly and they turned to face him as Kate slipped her hand into Martin's. He looked down at her as his fingers intertwined with hers. A silence fell on the church.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this Congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony...if any person here can show cause why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

After a pause Tom went on in his rich, deep voice.

"Martin Christopher Ellingham, will you take Catherine to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour, and protect her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

Martin looked down at Kate and said clearly, "I will."

"Catherine Penhallow Rushton will you take Martin to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour, and protect him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

Kate squeezed Martin's hand. "I will."

Tom indicated that they should face one another. "Join your right hands and repeat after me."

"I Martin take you Catherine to be my wife…" Kate's heart melted at the sound of Martin's soft, velvety voice filled with such earnestness as his eyes locked with hers, "to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part."

Kate smiled into his eyes.

"I Catherine take you Martin to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part."

Chris stepped forward and placed the wedding rings on the open Bible in Tom's hands.

"Heavenly Father, by your blessing, let these rings be to Martin and Kate, a symbol of unending love and faithfulness, to remind them of the vow which they have made this day."

Tom held out the Bible and indicated that Martin should take the ring.

"Kate I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you."

Martin slid the ring slowly onto her finger as he said the words, not once taking his eyes from hers. Kate could feel the tears gathering and she fought them back as Tom held out the Bible and she picked up the ring that Martin's grandfather had worn when he had uttered these same vows so many years before.

"Martin I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you."

Tom looked up and out over the congregation who sat enthralled. "In the presence of God, and before this congregation, Martin and Kate have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other. They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of rings. I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife." Tom smiled at Martin. "You may kiss the bride."

Martin still held Kate's hand in his and he turned briefly, his expression slightly bewildered and looked at the congregation who were applauding. There were calls of "Go on Martin" - "Kiss the bride."

He slowly lowered his head and his lips found hers in the most gentle and tender kiss and when he raised his head, all the love that was in him shone in his eyes and Kate's eyes brimmed as she rested a hand against his chest.

"I love you Kate...with all my heart." he whispered and put his hand up to gently stroke her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as a tear spilled over and she wiped it away, and he shook his head, "Don't be."

The congregation looked on and many remarked on the obvious devotion the bridal couple had for one another. Even those, who on first sight, had thought Martin to be unfriendly and aloof couldn't deny his obvious love for Kate.

As they turned to face down the aisle, the church bells began to ring in happy celebration of their marriage. Kate tucked her arm through his and they walked slowly from the church to applause from the congregation and eventually emerged into the afternoon sunlight as soft petals rained down on them. Kate held onto Martin's hand as guests came up to congratulate them. She could feel the tension in him and she tugged at his arm until he bent his head so she could whisper, "I know this is hard for you, my darling but everyone wants to wish us and many haven't even met you yet."

Martin grunted but she saw the smile in his eyes and she squeezed his hand as she saw the Three Musketeers approaching.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The reception room at the Camelot Castle Hotel was beautifully decorated. Martin could see the effort that had gone into it and when they reached the bridal table he murmured to Kate. "Umm...everything looks...good."

"Oh...only good?

Martin stiffened. "No...I mean…"

She laughed and patted his chest. "I'm teasing Martin...I know exactly what you mean. And thank you."

The reception got underway without a hitch. The starters had already been served and cleared away when Chris, as best man, got up and called out to get everyone's attention.

Martin stiffened. "Oh God…"

Kate squeezed his hand. The waiters were going round the tables filling champagne glasses and Martin looked uncomfortable as Chris looked round the softly lit room and began to speak.

"When a colleague told me that Martin was getting married, my first reaction was to ask, 'Martin who?' I didn't for a moment think that it was my friend because _that_ Martin had shown all the signs of being a confirmed bachelor. Much to the delight of my wife and I, the news of his engagement turned out to be true and we eventually got to meet his beautiful fiancé Kate. Her obvious love for our friend shone through and any reservations we might have had about the new person in Martin's life were swept away from the moment we met her. It was evident to us that they loved each other deeply."

Chris continued his speech, making people laugh at some anecdotes about medical school, mostly to do with Martin's paternal-like care of Chris and, on a more serious note, of his dedication as a doctor and his pioneering research into vascular surgery.

"His colleagues are in awe of this abilities - they are also in awe of his unique bedside manner..." Chris paused as his medical colleagues chuckled. "...which I hear has been considerably mellowed by Kate's calming influence in his life." He leaned forward and looked at Kate. "His patients will be eternally grateful to you Kate."

Kate smiled at Martin who had his chin tucked in and was studiously focusing on the cutlery in front of him. When the laughter had subsided Chris went on.

"Jokes aside, Martin has a serious dedication to his calling - his work has been everything to him. You could say that his work gave him a sense of purpose. But one thing was missing - one vital thing that would make his life complete - there was no loving companion. Until Kate came into his life."

Chris looked around the silent room. "Kate has accomplished what none of his friends or colleagues have been able to do. She has made Martin happy." Chris picked up his glass. "I would like therefore to propose a toast to the beautiful bride who has captured the heart of this extraordinary man and made him truly happy. As his friend I can never thank her enough for doing that. Please raise your glasses…to Kate."

When the hubbub had died down Chris once again raised his glass. "I would also like to propose a toast to Martin. A brilliant surgeon, an academic, a mentor, a man of the utmost integrity but most of all a true and unwavering friend."

Chris turned to look directly at Martin. "Martin, if meeting Kate and falling in love with her is the best thing that's happened to you, the next best thing is that from this day forward you get to spend the rest of your life with her - someone who completes you, someone I know will always support you and love you and most of all, someone who will always make you truly, truly happy - at last." He raised his glass. "To Martin."

The guests echoed his toast.

Kate turned to Martin and looked at his bent head. There was a faint tinge to his cheeks. She knew he hated attention to be on him and she stroked his thigh under cover of the table then she leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "You make _me_ truly, truly happy."

Martin looked up from under his brows and grunted. "Yes…" but his eyes said so much more.

After the dessert course had been cleared away and wine glasses topped up, Chris announced that the bridal couple would have the first dance together. Kate pulled gently on Martin's hand and he led her onto the dance floor.

The first strains of the song began to play and Joan looked at Ruth. "Oh dear...I hope he knows how to do this."

"Yes me too...I wouldn't think Martin would be the best of dancers but if he just shuffles around he'll be alright."

Martin led Kate into the dance. It was a slow and soulful piece that Kate loved and to which they had often danced at home. " _Have I told you lately that I love you? Have I told you there's no one above you?"_

Martin's hand rested firmly on her back as they moved to the music. Their eyes were locked, silently speaking the words to one another. " _Fill my heart with gladness, take away my sadness, ease my trouble that's what you do."_

Joan nudged Ruth. "Well we certainly needn't have worried about Martin's dancing abilities."

"No - very smooth. I'm quite impressed."

" _There's a love that's divine, and it's yours and mine, like the sun. At the end of the day we should give thanks and pray to the One."_

Martin lowered his head and rested his cheek against hers and Kate sighed with contentment. Being in his arms, so close to his body felt so right, so comforting and her heart swelled with love for him. " _Have I told you lately that I love you…"_ she whispered the words against his skin and felt him draw her closer.

Helen put her hand on Chris's arm. "I'm so happy for them." Chris nodded as they got up and joined Martin and Kate. Slowly other couples began to filter onto the dance floor. Kate was pleased to see Simon dancing with her mother, they were talking as they moved together. She saw Jen and her new boyfriend Ryan Goddard, a trauma surgeon who had recently transferred from Edinburgh and Arthur and Rachel; even Alistair and his wife Cecilia.

After an hour or so of dancing, Kate spoke to Jen and Chris and said they ought to be leaving for the lodge soon as they had to be up early for the trip to Newquay airport to get their connecting flight.

They were given a rousing send off as a chauffeur shut the back door of the silver Mercedes Benz and at last they were alone and on their way to the lodge near Tintagel.

On arrival there Kate was overwhelmed at how the place had been prepared for them. There were candles everywhere waiting to be lit. A fireplace was set just waiting for them to put a flame to the kindling. There was a bottle of champagne in the fridge and plenty of soft drinks, a plate of little eats should they get hungry and there were ingredients with which to make breakfast the following morning, including a Nespresso machine for coffee. Kate smiled. She knew her mother appreciated Martin's love for a decent cup of coffee.

The driver brought their luggage in and handed over the keys to the lodge. "All the best mate." He greeted Martin with a wink. Martin scowled at him. "Yes...thank you..." and shut the door.

Kate was lighting the candles. A soft, mellow glow lit the room and made the shadows dance in the corners. He stood and watched her. She looked beautiful in her wedding dress. She had long since discarded the veil and her hair cascaded around her shoulders just the way he liked it.

Kate became aware of the stillness behind her and she turned. Martin was looking at her with an expression of such love, the soft candlelight creating shadows and angles on his face. He looked gorgeous, so tall and straight and sexy.

He walked slowly towards her and lifted his hands to brush her hair from her shoulders. His voice was soft and melted her insides when he said, "Hello...Mrs Ellingham."

She lifted her hand to touch his face, his skin smooth under her hand. "Hello...husband."

Then infinitely slowly he lowered his head and his mouth found hers. The tenderness between them was a tangible thing, it flowed through their bodies and merged in an outpouring of love. After a moment he raised his head and whispered softly, "I'm your husband."

She smiled up at him. "Yes my darling man. You are my husband...and I couldn't be happier."

She reached up and kissed him slowly and felt his hands slide down her back to pull her hips closer. She whispered against his jaw, "And I am your wife...at last."

His hands came up to cup her face as they stared into each others eyes. "I'll light the fire."

"And I'll open that bottle of champagne."

He smiled almost imperceptibly. "Yes…"

He reluctantly released her and went to the fireplace. The flames flickered as soon as he touched the lighter to the kindling and he watched the wood begin to burn. There was a soft pop as Kate opened the champagne and she came to him carrying two champagne flutes and the bottle which she handed to him. He half filled each glass then put the bottle down on the table.

Kate lifted her glass. "To my gorgeous, sexy husband..."

They sipped a little champagne. Martin's expression was soft as he looked down at her. "To my beautiful wife...my beautiful Kate."

Kate's eyes glittered in the mellow light and she put her glass down on the table and he did the same. The fire had taken properly and the warmth was already spreading through the room. Martin took Kate in his arms and buried his face in her neck. His voice shook as he whispered, "I never thought I would ever love and be loved like this...that I would ever be standing with the most beautiful woman in my arms on our wedding day...never…"

She reached up and stroked his face. "And yet...here we are."

"Yes…"

Kate's arms went around his neck and she pulled him in for a deeply sensual kiss. It ignited the passion that was always just under the surface when they were together. Martin's hands caressed her neck and slid around to her back where he slowly began to unbutton her dress. Their eyes were locked as she undid his tie and pulled it free and then began to unbutton his soft, silk shirt. It reminded her of the first time they'd made love.

When the last button of her dress was released she felt him pull it down gently over her hips until it fell to the floor at their feet and he looked down at her exquisite body clad in white lace lingerie. His breath caught in his throat as he bent his head and trailed his lips down her shoulder to linger at the top of her bra where the soft swell of her breasts enticed his senses.

Kate breathed deeply. His caresses were driving her crazy with need. She pulled his head up and their mouths locked in a scorching kiss. But Martin pulled back and stroked her face. "Tonight I want us to take our time."

"Yes…" She slid his jacket from his shoulders and continued unbuttoning his shirt until she could run her hands across his smooth skin and up his back. Her heart skipped a beat as she leaned back to look at him. His open white shirt revealed his chest and his dark trousers accentuated his long legs and narrow hips. God he was sexy.

His hands slid slowly up her bare belly to cup her lace clad breasts and she moaned softly. "You're driving me crazy..."

"Mmm...that's the whole idea." He lifted her gently and carried her to the big bed and laid her down on the soft burgundy red cover. She looked perfect, so white against the red with her lush chestnut hair splayed around her. Martin slid onto the bed beside her and with slow caresses divested her of her lingerie until she lay naked and breathless. Kate was on fire for him. She slid her hands under his shirt and coaxed him out of it. Then she undid his belt and ran her hand down until she heard his sharp intake of breath. "Kate…"

"I want you Martin." He sat up and she watched through half closed eyes as he shed the rest of his clothes and came to lie beside her. His arousal was obvious but once again he tenderly took her in his arms and kissed her slowly and his mouth began to explore her body, travelling slowly down to nuzzle each breast and then further on to her smooth belly. She tugged at him. "Please Martin...:"

He looked up and his eyes were dark and intense. He shifted to kneel over her and with her hands insistently pulling him closer he sank down and infinitely slowly joined with her. His breath escaped in a low moan. "Oh Kate…"

Their lovemaking was slow and tender - every pore in their bodies was alive to the sensations that rippled through them. Every movement, every touch, every softly whispered word felt like it was the first time they'd experienced it and the rest of the world faded away until only they existed.

Their joining was always fulfilling and sensual but tonight they both felt something more. Martin's whole being was attuned to Kate's and when he sensed she was ready, he increased his pace with deep intensity until their senses exploded. They surrendered to it and clung together, their bodies merged and their senses melded in white-hot passion.

It took a long while before their breathing subsided and the weakness in their limbs abated. Martin shifted to lie beside Kate and their arms remained wrapped around one another.

The silence between them was a contented, comfortable silence. A silence filled with love. Outside, rain had begun to fall and it pattered against the windows, a strangely comforting sound. Kate's hand stroked Martin's belly. "I'm so happy."

"Mmm...me too."

"Today was so special and you were wonderful Martin...in front of all those people when I know how shy you are."

"Yes...I pretended they weren't there...only you."

Kate leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I love you my darling man..."

Martin answered her with feather-light kisses.

When they broke apart Kate leaned on her elbow, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "So are you going to tell me?"

Martin kept his eyes closed. "Tell you what?"

"Where we're going tomorrow?"

His mouth twitched. "It's meant to be a secret Mrs Ellingham...you'll find out soon enough…"

Kate poked him in the chest. "That's unfair mister...I'll just have to coax it out of you…"

"Mmm...I look forward to that...

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **The wedding song is:** " _ **Have I Told You Lately"**_ **by Van Morrison. There are versions by other artists but only this one is soulful and filled with emotion. It is worth a listen. Maybe some brave soul will one day make a video to it featuring our Doc.**

 **I must apologise for the long gap between chapters. For the past three weeks I have been ill and unable to do any meaningful writing. I am still not feeling particularly creative, so the words just would not flow. I am sure I might have done this chapter better had I been in better form but I hope I have captured the essence of Martin and Kate's commitment to one another. It's been a really difficult chapter to write because of the high expectations of the culmination of their courtship and the anticipation of this special occasion. I am feeling much better now and I am sure that my muse will reappear and shower me with renewed creativity soon. :)**

 **I have been writing this story for almost 8 months now without a break, grabbing every possible moment I can to write. It is a challenge to keep things fresh, especially when I know that readers are eagerly awaiting each new chapter. I hate to disappoint so I feel the pressure keenly. For this reason I am letting you know that after the next chapter, which will focus on the honeymoon and the start of Martin and Kate's married life together, I will be taking a little break, not from writing, but from publishing, so that I can get ahead by at least 4 or 5 chapters. This will take the pressure off a little. I hope you understand and that you will continue to check in from time to time, or better still, follow the story so that you are notified when a new chapter is posted.**

 **Thank you once again for all the reviews - I can't tell you how much it means to receive feedback - it is an encouragement that few writers can do without.**

 **ooooOOOOoooo**


	59. Chapter 59

The sound of gently lapping water filtered into Martin's consciousness. It took a moment to register that he wasn't in Portwenn or London. There was a hint of light in the room, just enough to make out the wrap-around windows and pick out the clothing thrown carelessly over a chair on the other side of the room. He lay for a moment just savouring the feeling of being away from everything, of being alone in the world with Kate and the feeling that warmed him every time he remembered that he was now a married man with the most beautiful wife imaginable. He slid his hand over to touch her but encountered empty space. He sat up, leaning on his elbow and looked around the empty room. A glance towards the bathroom told him she couldn't be there and he got up and slipped into his boxers.

The temperature was warm for the dawn hour and the tiled floor felt cool under his bare feet as he padded across to the open doors leading out to the pool with the glorious vista of the flat, silvery ocean beyond. His eyes only fleetingly registered the view then settled on Kate as she stood with her back to him, her hands in the pockets of her short, thigh length kimono. Her legs looked sculpted against the glint of the pool and her hair was loose around her shoulders as she looked out toward the horizon where a strip of bluish light was beginning to broaden.

Martin came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist and she tipped her head back so he could nuzzle her neck.

"Mmm...morning handsome. Did I wake you?" Kate's voice was still husky with sleep.

"No…"

She slid her hands behind her to pull his hips closer. "It's so beautiful. And so quiet..."

They stood watching the sky slowly turn red as rays of sunlight refracted through a bank of clouds on the horizon, tinting the ceiling of high-level grey cloud above them pink. The sea was as flat as a mirror, the only movement coming from a skein of sea birds making their way low across the water to find breakfast somewhere among the scattering of small islands.

From where they stood they might as well have been alone in the middle of the ocean. There was nothing to obstruct their view, no hint of any other people nearby and no sounds but the gentle, muted lapping of water around the piers of the villa. The air was warm and the water looked inviting.

Martin lifted his hand and gently brushed Kate's hair aside so he could run his lips up her neck to her jaw. Her skin was as soft as the satin of her kimono. She turned in his arms, leaning back slightly to look at his face in the half light, her eyes dreamy as she ran her hands over his bare chest and round his waist to come to rest under the waistband of his boxers. "Let's swim."

Martin tugged gently at the ties of her kimono until it fell open and his breath caught as it gave him a glimpse of her naked body beneath.

"You're so beautiful." His voice was soft and low as he watched her slowly shed the kimono. It slid over her hips to the decking, revealing her softly curved body.

"Come..." She held out her hand and slowly moved towards the unlit pool with its shallow, broad steps. Martin slipped out of his boxers and took her hand in his as they descended into the water. It felt like warm silk sliding over their skin.

They floated side by side in the infinity pool which created the illusion that they were drifting in the ocean together with the bank of clouds now bright red and gold before them. Kate swam to the side of the pool and hooked her arms over the edge. Her wet hair trailed down her back and the curve of her jaw and her cheeks were accented in the burnished light.

Martin stood watching her from a few feet away. Her skin glistened with silvery droplets and she lifted a hand to squeeze the water from her hair before shaking her head to let her hair splay out again. Then she rested her chin on her folded arms to take in the view. Martin waded over to stand next to her, never once taking his eyes off of her.

She smiled up at him and slipped her arm around his waist. "It's one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen. Look at the colours Martin."

"Mmm...yes." Martin's hand slid down her back to cup her bottom. "Very beautiful."

Kate nudged him with her elbow. "You're not paying attention, mister. What am I to do with you, mmm?"

His head dipped and she felt his lips on her cheek. "Anything you like," he murmured and his voice was as soft as velvet.

Kate turned into his arms and her hands curled around his neck. "Anything?"

Martin's mouth continued to trail softly down the side of her face until he reached her mouth where he teased her lips gently between his. "Anything…"

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The days slipped by as if in slow motion - blissfully relaxed days where Kate got to see a different side of Martin. The first two days they never left the villa. They swam and lay on padded _chaises longues_ under cover of the villa's patio roof, they sat and looked out at the changing sea and watched beautiful sunsets paint the sky with rich, bold colours. They ate deliciously prepared food sent over from the hotel restaurant, they danced to music played through the villa sound system, they dozed in each other's arms in the heat of the afternoon, sometimes to be woken by the sound of a launch passing by or the cries of sea birds as they followed shoals of fish. And they made love whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted.

In London, at the townhouse, they were often alone together, but this was a different kind of being alone. Perhaps it was being so close to the elements, or feeling the silky warmth of the air and the sound and sight of the sea that made this kind of being alone different. It was intoxicating and charged with a primal, sensual energy - an energy that stoked their already stimulated senses. The air felt soft, the water caressed their skin, the sun glittered and danced on the water, the moon and stars looked brighter and when their eyes met, there was a languid, unhurried invitation; a playful, unspoken flirtation and whenever they touched, their senses sparked. They were lovers with all the time in the world, savouring every glance, every touch and every whispered word as they explored each other in ways they had never done before.

Being away from his usual environment and being away from the possibility of being called to an emergency at the hospital seemed to relax Martin. Without people around, without his clocks or medical journals, without his normal routine, he mellowed and took on a dreamy, lazy, sexy look that just melted Kate's heart. His mouth would lift in a slow smile and his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he was amused and the gentle playfulness in Kate softened the serious expression that habitually dominated his face.

They talked...a lot. Kate would lie with her cheek against his chest, her fingers slowly stroking circles on his skin. She would tell him how he made her feel whenever she looked up and saw him walking down a corridor at the hospital or when she woke and felt him lying next to her.

"I feel joy. Yes...that's what I feel. Joy. My heart becomes so filled with love that it feels too big for my body. You make me feel safe...and wanted...and happy. "

"Mmm…" His fingers caressed her shoulder. "Haven't you always felt safe and wanted...and happy? I mean with your parents...growing up..."

She looked up at him in the dim light. "Yes...I suppose so...but that was slightly different. It was almost as if I was being prepared for a journey...from a safe and loving harbour." Her hand stroked his cheek as he lay looking at her. "Now I feel like I have reached a harbour of my own. You make me feel like I finally belong...like I am truly loved."

He was quiet for a long moment then murmured, "I've never felt like that...until I met you. It took me a while to believe that you meant what you said...but now I do...and it makes me feel happy too...and safe and wanted."

Kate reached up and kissed his jaw. The slight roughness still came as a surprise to her. Martin was always so perfectly groomed but she loved his slightly mussed hair and the light stubble on his chin when he woke up. He looked vulnerable and sexy. "I am glad you feel that way...because I couldn't love you more than I do right now."

She shifted and slid her leg over his hips and moved until she was lying on top of him and took his face between her hands, covering it with soft kisses from his forehead to his chin. She felt his hands slide gently down her back to rest on her bottom as her mouth trailed over his jaw until she eventually reached his mouth where she lingered, placing feather-light kisses on his lips until his hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer. Their kiss was deep and sensual and seemed to last forever. It ignited their senses until every pore of their skin was on fire and Martin gathered her against his aroused body.

Kate groaned as she felt his hands slide around, turning her in his arms until he lay on top of her. His hands cupped her face as he looked into her eyes. "I love you Kate." His voice was a gentle whisper, filled with tenderness. "I didn't know what it meant to be wanted...just for being me...or what it meant to give my heart to another person and know that it would be safe...until there was you..."

Kate stroked his hair feeling the softness of it under her fingers. She knew this moment defined a change for Martin. Finally he knew that he could trust her fully. That she would keep his heart safe. That she would protect him against all hurt and rejection...that she would protect him, even against his mistrust of himself. That she loved him for who he was: the man with all his insecurities, the man who loved her with all that was in him.

"I love you so much my darling man." She stroked his face gently. "And until there was you, I didn't know that I had the capacity to love like this Martin."

He shifted and heard her sigh deeply as he joined with her, a sound that never failed to make his heart burst with love. Their love making was slow and deep and filled with tenderness. Their eyes remained locked as their bodies moved, slowly heightening their senses and building to a crescendo of passion until Martin threw his head back and his movements quickened. He felt Kate's body in perfect rhythm with his and heard her softly cry his name and he bent down to bury his face in her neck as they reached their peak, clinging together until they eventually floated gently down to earth again to lie still, sated, with every part of their bodies merged and their souls as one.

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

Kate put the finishing touches to some light make-up then stared at the effect in the bathroom mirror. She was pleased with it and even more pleased that she didn't need much. She really preferred to be without it but tonight they were going dancing and she wanted to take the trouble to look different to the very casual style they had adopted over the last couple of days. The hotel was hosting the dance and from the looks of it in the villa's brochure, it was going to be wonderful - an evening of dancing under the stars. She smiled in anticipation.

She packed everything back into her make-up bag and took one last look in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. As she walked into the bedroom she froze when she saw her husband in the sitting room. He was bent forward, inspecting his feet and looked up from under his brows as he heard her approach, his whole demeanour sheepish and unsure.

"Oh...my...God Martin!"

He straightened up looking alarmed. "What? Oh God I knew it...I _knew_ I shouldn't have listened to Parsons. I'll go and change."

"No you won't," she said looking him up and down. "You look _ab_ -solutely gorgeous."

Kate had seen him in his perfectly tailored suits, she'd seen him in scrubs, in pyjamas, in his new swimming trunks and she'd seen him naked but the way he was dressed now took her breath away. She stared at him wide-eyed and broke into a smile.

There was a faint hint of red in Martin's cheeks. "Well I don't know about that. These trousers are...well...ummm…"

The trousers he was referring to were classic dark grey chinos, with a slightly slimmer cut than he was used to. It accentuated his long legs and narrow hips and made him look taller. He wore a plain white shirt, open at the neck with the sleeves rolled up to just below the elbows. It hugged his torso and drew her attention to the strong column of his neck.

Kate walked towards him. "You look amazing...I like it... _very, very_ much."

Martin's chin dipped but he looked bashfully pleased by her praise as she stood on tiptoe and planted a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Let's go handsome."

They left the villa and walked hand in hand down the long wooden jetty beneath which water gently lapped. It was so clear they could see a lone stingray undulating in the shallows, surrounded by smaller fish. They stood and watched for a while until it disappeared from view then continued their slow walk. Ahead lay a pristine beach with palms standing tall against the indigo sky and there were little glimpses of the hotel nestling behind lush, green tropical plants.

It was almost dark as they approached the restaurant. Flickering torches lit the way and they were shown to a table on a deck looking out over the water. To the side a dance floor had been erected on the white sand with palms as a backdrop and the sea in front.

The restaurant was filling up as they sat and sipped their drinks. Kate had persuaded Martin to have a small whisky, not that he needed much persuading. They ordered their meals and watched as the moon floated up behind the palms. It looked bigger than either of them had ever seen it before.

A festive atmosphere pervaded the restaurant. It was the most noise they'd heard since they'd arrived and Kate remarked that the islands seemed to make people spontaneously happy. "It's like we've all left our cares behind and we can just be in the moment."

Martin looked around. People did seem more animated. Of course it was all due to a cocktail of hormones coursing through their bodies, boosted, no doubt, by a liberal supply of alcohol, but he knew better than to say that out loud so he just grunted.

As the starters were cleared away a band began to play and couples got up to dance. For a while Kate and Martin just sat and watched but when Kate heard the next song begin she took his hand. "Dance with me...husband."

Martin's mouth twitched and he stood up and guided Kate between the tables. She attracted a lot of attention with her white knee-length dress and her dark hair flowing around her bare shoulders. He felt as if he were ten feet tall and walking on air with her beside him and when they got to the dance floor she turned into his arms and he caught the soft scent of her as her body pressed against his. The dance floor was full and he gathered Kate closer.

She tilted her head back to look up at him. His face was all angles and shadows in the soft light.

"You make me so happy." Kate smiled into his eyes.

Martin bent his head and murmured. "That's my line."

She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. "Then say it..."

His eyes were hooded as he looked down at her. "You make me so happy...my beautiful wife."

Kate's face lit up. "I like it when you call me that."

Across the dance floor, someone sat at the edge of the decking watching them as they swayed together. Someone who, after recognising who he was, was intrigued to see Martin Ellingham dancing and very well too. He looked so relaxed. In fact, she had to look carefully to see that it really was him. He looked so different to the man she'd known all those years ago - the brilliant young doctor; the awkward young man so lacking in confidence. She'd liked him but she'd liked him more for his knowledge and his ability to understand every facet of medicine, from anatomy to chemistry and he could explain it all so succinctly. Yes, she'd benefited enormously from keeping him close. He'd turned into a surprisingly good lover too but her ambitions stretched to way more than clever young doctors.

They'd not surprisingly lost touch when she'd gone overseas to take up a post in the States. She only realised later that he'd been deadly serious when he'd asked her to marry him. He'd looked like she'd pulled the rug out from under his feet when she'd turned him down, which surprised her because he'd been just as ambitious as she. She'd been offered a position at a top hospital in Maryland and marriage was just not an option. In fact staying in the UK had not been an option. She wanted more and she wanted it a lot quicker than it would come about if she stayed and married Martin Ellingham. She had no doubt that he would make a success of his career. He was never going to be an ordinary doctor. He was way too gifted. He'd set his sights on being a surgeon and not just any surgeon but one of the elite group of vascular surgeons whose field was still growing. He wouldn't have time for a wife. She'd been surprised he'd even considered it.

She looked at him now. He'd grown into himself. He'd been a gangly, awkward young man and now he'd filled out a little and stood tall, with a confident bearing. His grey hair and the angles on his face made him look distinguished and his lips...she remembered how they'd felt. He could kiss, my God he could kiss. She glanced at the man sitting next to her, a good looking young doctor from Canada. It gave her a feeling of power that she could still attract men ten years younger than herself but he now seemed like a boy compared to Martin.

He smiled at her. "Who's the object of all that attention."

She sipped her drink. "That, Adam, is Martin Ellingham, the top vascular surgeon in Britain...maybe in the world."

Adam looked at the tall man as he moved between the other dancers and his eyes drifted to the person he was dancing with. "That's quite a looker he's with."

"Yes...I wonder who she is? Martin was always a bit shy when it came to women."

"Well he doesn't look very shy now."

The song ended and she watched as Martin and his companion made their way back to their table. Martin seated her then said something and turned to walk towards the back of the restaurant. He walked as if he owned the place, looking neither right nor left, his chin up and his long legs striding right past them and into the corridor at the back.

She took another sip of her drink. Martin looked attractive...desirable. She felt a stirring within her. She had completely underestimated Martin's rise to fame - completely underestimated how he would turn out, so distinguished and oozing authority. It was instantly apparent the moment she saw him. The photos she'd seen in medical journals and on the internet didn't convey that at all.

A few minutes later she saw him returning and she stood up and blocked his way. "Hello Ellingham."

Martin stopped dead. The momentary look of surprise on his face was quickly concealed and he cleared his throat. "Edith." He didn't sound pleased to see her. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he stood looking down at her.

Edith smiled. "Well well...this is a surprise." Her hand swept around, "The last place I would have expected to meet up with you. It's a bit of a change for you, isn't it?"

"Yes…"

She took his arm and pulled him to one side so that Adam couldn't overhear them.

Martin looked down at the hand on his arm as if it was contaminated and she slowly removed it.

"How are you Ellingham?"

"Fine…"

"More than fine by all the good accounts I hear of you. You've done well for yourself. But I expected nothing less." She looked him over like he was a mannequin in a shop window. "You've changed..."

"Of course I've changed," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "I'm forty…"

Edith's thin mouth lifted in a smile. "That's not what I meant, but yes…it's been a while, hasn't it?" Her eyes travelled slowly down the length of his body. "You're looking good - you've improved with age Ellingham, just like a fine wine..."

Martin's lip curled and he turned to walk away but Edith, once again, put her hand on his arm to stop him.

"Dance with me...I didn't know you could by the way...but you looked quite at home on the dance floor with your...companion." She glanced over to where Kate sat watching them with interest.

"My wife...she is my wife. And I don't want to dance with you."

Edith couldn't hide her surprise. "Your wife?"

"Yes...my wife."

Edith felt a twinge of something. Envy? Jealousy? Surprise? Martin had emerged from the chrysalis to become a desirable man and the competitive streak in her wanted more than anything to be able to take up where they'd left off. She was curious to find out if she still had a hold on him and, if she was honest with herself, whether his skills in the bedroom had improved.

"Ahh...how nice. How long have you been married?"

"Five days...not that it's any of your business."

Edith's eyes went round and she sounded amused, "Still so prickly...that hasn't changed." She leaned forward and her voice mocked him a little, "Ellingham on honeymoon...who would have thought?"

Martin turned on his heel and walked away.

"Congratulations," she called after him. "Maybe we should all get together for a drink before we part ways again."

Martin grunted and went back to where Kate sat sipping her glass of wine. He sat down with a dark frown on his face and took a gulp of his whisky.

Kate watched him. He was clearly not happy about his encounter with the woman. "Are you going to tell me who that was?"

Martin coughed and took another gulp of whisky then cleared his throat nervously. "Edith Montgomery. We were at medical school together."

Kate smiled inwardly. If she had to read the signs she would say that there had been more to their relationship than just being at medical school together. It was in the woman's body language. The way she touched his arm and leaned into his personal space. Kate remained silent and watched as Martin squirmed under her scrutiny. "Ex-girlfriend?"

Martin hung his head. "Mmm…"

Kate laughed softly. "I don't care Martin. Remember what I told you? None of the others matter. I'm just curious, that's all."

He looked up sheepishly. "Yes...she...umm…we..."

Kate took his hand and stood up, tugging him to his feet. They made their way between the tables towards the dance floor, passing close to where Edith sat with her boyfriend and as they passed Kate felt Edith's eyes on her and she smiled inwardly as she felt Martin's hand, so warm and firm in hers.

Martin led her into the dance and Kate could still feel Edith's eyes on them as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "She's in for a hard time if she thinks she can steal you away." She pressed her lips to his cheek.

"Mmm..." he murmured against her hair. "She doesn't stand a chance."

When they returned to their villa, Martin went to stand on the deck looking out over the ocean. The moonlight looked like a silver pathway on the calm water and the air was still and warm. Kate looked at his silhouette, so slim and straight. He'd been quiet for the remainder of their meal and they'd left soon after they'd finished eating. Edith's presence seemed to upset him and both of them constantly felt like they were being watched. It was uncomfortable so they decided to leave.

Kate came to stand beside him and slipped her arm through his. "I had a lovely evening Martin. Thank you."

"Mmm…could've been better."

Kate looked up at his sombre face. "Don't let her spoil our time together Martin. Forget about her."

He remained silent then suddenly turned to her. "There is something you ought to know...about Edith...and me."

Kate's heart skipped a beat. He sounded so serious but she remained silent.

"Umm...Edith and I were...we errr...had a relationship for quite a long time...at medical school. I thought I loved her...I know differently now...that it was nothing of the sort." He turned away to look out over the water again. "I asked her to marry me."

Kate was glad he wasn't looking at her because she couldn't hide her surprise. He must have been so young.

"She turned me down in favour of a post at Johns Hopkins. In fact she laughed at me...said her career was more important than being someone's wife...that it would tie her down."

Kate could almost feel his humiliation and hurt - it must have crushed him. "Oh Martin...that must have been awful for you. You were so young…"

"Yes...but I am extremely glad now that it didn't happen. I was naive...I confused sex and attention with love." He turned and took her in his arms, holding her fiercely to his body. "I dodged a bullet...I would never have been happy with her. And I would never have met you."

Kate lifted her hand and stroked his cheek gently. "Thank you for sharing that with me. It makes things even more wonderful when I realise just how much it took for you to tell me you loved me."

"It did...but it's one of the best things I've ever done in my life."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

The week was almost at an end. They'd done so much together. Apart from the dance, they had also been taken by boat to a spot where Manta rays gathered to feed and they'd done some snorkelling which Martin, at first, almost refused to participate in. When the instructor handed each of them goggles and a snorkel, Martin held the snorkel up between two fingers as if it was infected with some deadly disease. "God knows how many people have put this in their mouths. It could be harbouring any number of pathogens." The instructor assured him that every set was disinfected after use. To see if he was telling the truth Martin held it up to his nose and the smell of disinfectant confirmed it. Notwithstanding the shaky start, they ended up enjoying a couple of hours swimming in a shallow reef off one of the islands, experiencing a different world under the water and it was as if time stood still for those hours.

They also went for walks around the island many times and just enjoyed being so far removed from their normal environment that they felt invigorated. Kate loved to see Martin walking barefoot in the sand. It took a lot of cajoling on her part to get him to take his shoes off but eventually he did. He had worn his chino shorts on that walk and they'd stood in the sea with the water lapping around their legs. She even got to see him with his new sunglasses on and her heart leapt. He looked gorgeous.

One morning they took a walk down to the beach where people lay in the sun or swam in the gently lapping water. There was a young couple ensconced under a huge umbrella and their two toddlers were running about while they were glued to their mobiles.

Kate and Martin were walking in the shallow water when Kate noticed the young boy, who couldn't have been more than three years old run, into the water. He suddenly opened his mouth and let out a wail and fell forward with his face in the water.

Kate leapt forward and ran to him, pulling him upright but the child seemed to be struggling to catch his breath.

"Martin!" She looked up as Martin knelt beside her.

"Give him to me…"

He lay the child down on the sand, placing his broad hand on the boy's chest and firmly but gently began to press down rhythmically. Fortunately it only took a few compressions before they were rewarded with a stream of water being regurgitated, followed by coughing and a loud cry. Kate held out her arms and Martin lifted him and handed him over. She wrapped her arms around the little dark-haired boy and rocked him backwards and forwards. "There, there...you've had a big fright haven't you? Never mind, it's all over now…" She stroked the water from his face and smiled gently at him and his wails faded to little sobs.

By that time the parents had come running up, excitedly gesturing and speaking in what sounded like Spanish. Martin scowled at them and his lip curled in contempt. "If you spent less time on your phones and paid more attention to your children that wouldn't have happened." He glanced down and saw blood on the child's left foot. Kate held him as Martin examined it. "It looks like a shell has cut his foot. It won't need stitches - disinfect it - put a plaster on - and he must have a tetanus injection." He looked at the parents to see if they'd understood him. "Tetanus," he said making a gesture as if he was giving an injection. The parents nodded, "Tétanos...si."

"And you should have him checked out properly to see that he hasn't aspirated any sea water. It could cause serious respiratory complications later." He raised his eyebrows. "Do you understand what I've just said?"

The parents nodded and thanked them again but Martin was already walking off down the white sandy beach.

Kate wanted to apologise for Martin's forthright lecture and abrupt manner but then she thought, no - he was absolutely right. As she reached him she heard him muttering, "Utter morons...they shouldn't be parents if cell phones take priority over their children." Kate slipped her hand into his and he looked down at her, a deep scowl marring his features.

"Well done Martin...you saved his life."

"Mmm...it was your quick action that prevented it being much worse." His expression relaxed a little as they continued their walk.

Fortunately they hadn't bumped into Edith Montgomery again but Martin had received a message from the concierge that she had requested that he call her. He'd said no and instructed the concierge not to contact him again should she leave another message. Edith had always been single minded about what she wanted. He just hoped she didn't find out which villa they were staying in. Of all the places in the world he had chosen for a honeymoon and Edith had to pop up. It was so annoying. Thank goodness Kate hadn't been upset.

Before they knew it, their time on their little island was at an end and it was time to leave for Paris. On arrival they went straight to the Shangri La, where they'd stayed before when Martin had proposed to her. The weather was not bad for February but the contrast with the Maldives brought them back to earth with a bang. They both went out and bought warmer jackets before venturing out for walks in parks that dripped with rain. But, winter or not, Paris had a vibrancy of its own and they enjoyed their time eating in cosy bistros, browsing in secondhand book stores or sipping coffee at one of the many coffee shops.

On their last night, Martin had booked to go on the dinner cruise on the Seine again. He was such a romantic at heart and yet he did his utmost to hide it. Kate loved the cruise just as much as the first time but all too soon it was over. When the boat finally docked under the brightly lit Eiffel Tower, they walked hand in hand down the embankment and came to stand opposite Notre Dame cathedral with its golden towers soaring into the night sky. Martin stood behind Kate and encircled her waist with his arms. "Last time we stood here, I could hardly bring myself to ask you to be my wife - I was petrified you would say no."

Kate turned in his arms, putting her hands on his chest. "And now we're here...and I _am_ your wife."

"Yes…"

He was silent for a long time as he looked across the river towards the cathedral. Kate put her hand up and stroked his cheek. "Everything alright? You've gone quiet..."

"Mmm...just thinking...about us. What lies ahead..." He dipped his head and gently touched his lips to hers. "I am the luckiest man alive."

Kate smiled into his eyes. "You're also the sexiest man alive."

Martin grunted and blinked slowly. "Umm...there is something I...uh...wanted to talk to you about…"

"Oh dear...that sounds serious…"

"Yes...it is…"

Kate waited and she grew worried as the silence stretched and she sensed Martin's struggle to find the words he wanted to say.

"Martin?"

"Uh...when I saw you...with that child...on the beach...the way you held him and comforted him...the way your whole expression changed and...the way you spoke to him...I realised that it is such a big part of who you are...the natural urge to comfort and nurture...and I realised that I was being selfish in withholding that from you...because of my insecurities."

Kate held her breath.

Martin lifted his hand and stroked the hair from her cheek. "I want you to know that if you want us to have a child...if you want to try for a baby...I won't...I mean...I wouldn't be opposed...to having our baby..."

Martin's heart constricted in his chest as he saw tears spill and run down Kate's cheeks. "Oh Kate..."

Kate buried her face in Martin's neck and sobbed quietly. She couldn't stop and she felt him hold her tightly against the length of his body as he rocked her gently from side to side.

"Shh...shh...shh...shh...please don't cry." He put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up so he could wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry Kate…"

"What for?" Kate sniffed and reached for a tissue in her jacket pocket.

"For putting you through this. For making you think you could never be a mother if you married me."

Kate wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. "I won't lie and say that it didn't sadden me...because it did. But I love you so much Martin. You come first...before anything else. And just so you know...I know without a shadow of doubt that you will be a wonderful father. Our love is strong enough to include another little soul within its circle. And the way you are with me will be the way you are with our child. I just know it."

"Mmm...well, if she looks like you...then yes…"

Kate smiled one of her radiant smiles; the type that lit her up from within and illuminated everything around her. "She? So it's a little girl you're hoping for, is it?"

Martin's mouth lifted slightly and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Yesss...that would be satisfactory...that would be good."

"You're such a softy."

"No I'm not."

"You might not think so...but you are."

Martin's eyebrow lifted and he looked as if he was about to say something then thought better of it. Instead he bent his head and nuzzled her neck. Kate lay against his chest and smelled the warm scent that was only his. They shared a moment filled with so much love that words became unnecessary.

Tomorrow they would be back in London - this time, as husband and wife. Tomorrow a new chapter of their lives would begin to unfold as they made a future together. Whatever that future held, it would be built on a solid foundation. It was grounded in love and respect and caring; everlasting building blocks - solid, like the ancient cathedral opposite them.

Martin looked down at Kate. A weight seemed to have disappeared from somewhere deep within him and he felt a lightness, almost one of elation, filling him. Joy. That's what Kate had called it and as he looked at her, he saw it in her eyes. It felt good. It felt more than good.

"I love you Kate...with all my heart."

"I love you too...my darling, darling man."

 **ooooOOOOoooo**

 **Thanks to all my loyal readers - you have been most patient and very supportive through this creatively dry spell and I am very grateful for it. It's been a struggle to put anything down so I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I will now concentrate on the next phase of the story and will take some time to hopefully get a few chapters ahead - so once again I must beg for your patience. For those of you who aren't following the story, it might be a good idea to do so, so that you get an alert when I publish the next chapters.**


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